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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ef0c433 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61995 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61995) diff --git a/old/61995-8.txt b/old/61995-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0cec763..0000000 --- a/old/61995-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10235 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Girl of High Adventure, by L. T. Meade - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: A Girl of High Adventure - -Author: L. T. Meade - -Illustrator: Charles L. Wrenn - -Release Date: May 2, 2020 [EBook #61995] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GIRL OF HIGH ADVENTURE *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -[Illustration: With these words, he left the somewhat desolate little -girl.--_Page 30._] - - - - -A GIRL OF HIGH ADVENTURE - - -BY - -MRS. L. T. MEADE - -AUTHOR OF "OCEAN'S GIRLHOOD," "A WILD IRISH GIRL," "THE GIRLS - OF MERTON COLLEGE," "FOR DEAR DAD," "KITTY O'DONOVAN," - "PEGGY FROM KERRY," "THE CHESTERTON GIRL GRADUATES," - "THE GIRLS OF KING'S ROYAL," "THE - LADY OF JERRY BOY'S DREAMS," "A - PLUCKY GIRL," "THE QUEEN - OF JOY," ETC., ETC. - - -_WITH FOUR HALF-TONE DRAWINGS -BY CHARLES L. WRENN_ - - -NEW YORK -HURST & COMPANY -PUBLISHERS - - - - -Copyright, 1914, - -BY - -HURST & COMPANY - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - PAGE -With these words, he left the somewhat desolate -little girl _Frontispiece_ - -She nestled more snugly than ever into her -grandfather's arms 100 - -Never was there anything quite so delightful as -that ride 207 - -They did find wonderful mosses and * * * -snow drops and even primroses 349 - - - - - My noble, lovely, little Peggy, - Let this my First Epistle beg ye, - At dawn of morn, and close of even, - To lift your heart and hands to Heaven. - In double duty say your prayer; - "Our Father" first, then "_Notre Père_." - - And, dearest child, along the day, - In everything you do and say, - Obey and please my lord and lady, - So God shall love and angels aid ye. - - If to these precepts you attend, - No second letter need I send, - And so I rest your constant friend. - - MATTHEW PRIOR. - - - - -CONTENTS. - -CHAPTER PAGE - I. THE CHILD WHO WON HEARTS 1 - - II. A VISIT TO IRELAND 13 - - III. AN IRISH CHIEFTAIN AT HOME 31 - - IV. OLD YOUNG PEOPLE 49 - - V. "I'LL EXPLAIN TO YOURSELF" 68 - - VI. M. LE COMTE 88 - - VII. THE LITTLE COMTESSE 100 - - VIII. BROWN HATS AND FANS 115 - - IX. THE ENGLISH GIRLS AT THE SCHOOL OF LA PRINCESSE 131 - - X. THOU ART FAITHFUL AND SO ARE MY BEES 148 - - XI. THUNDER STORM 164 - - XII. GEM OF THE OCEAN 180 - - XIII. THE PINES 197 - - XIV. STARLIGHT AND TILLY 216 - - XV. I CANNOT TALK PARLEY-VOUS 231 - - XVI. THE FEAR OF THE SHILLELAGH 247 - - XVII. IF IT MUST BE, IT MUST 264 - -XVIII. THE GREEN HAT 280 - - XIX. LE CABINET DE BEAUTÉ 299 - - XX. A CONSPIRACY 314 - - XXI. THE PALACE OF TRUTH 330 - - XXII. IT IS JOYFUL TO BEHOLD THEE, MY PUSHKEEN 342 - -XXIII. THE GLORIOUS SOFTNESS OF IRELAND 349 - - XXIV. A POUND A DAY--A PICTURE AND A WEDDING 368 - - - - -A GIRL OF HIGH ADVENTURE - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE CHILD WHO WON HEARTS. - - -Marguerite St. Juste was Irish on her mother's side, who was born of -the Desmonds of Desmondstown in the County Kerry. Marguerite's father -was a French Comte, whose grandfather had been one of the victims of -the guillotine. - -Little Marguerite lived with an uncle, who was really only that -relation by marriage; his name was the Reverend John Mansfield. He had -a large living in a large town about fifty miles from London, and he -adopted Marguerite shortly after the death of her parents. This tragedy -happened when she was very young, almost a baby. She did not in the -least remember her father, whose dancing black eyes and merry ways had -endeared him to all who knew him. Nor did she recall a single fact with -regard to her mother--one of those famous Desmonds, who had joined the -rebels in the great insurrection of '97, and whose people still lived -and prospered and were gay and merry of the merry on their somewhat -tattered and worn-out country estate. - -Marguerite adored "Uncle Jack," as she called her supposed uncle. She -had a knack of turning this grave and esteemed gentleman, so to speak, -round her little finger. It was the Rev. John and his wife Priscilla -who taught little Marguerite all she knew. She adored her uncle; she -did not like his wife. A sterner or stricter woman than Priscilla -Mansfield it would be hard to find. Her husband, it is true, considered -her admirable, for she discovered whenever his parishioners tried to -impose upon him, and kept the women of his parish well up to the mark. - -Mrs. Mansfield was really a good woman, but her goodness was of a -kind which must surely try such a nature as little Marguerite's, or -Margot's, as her uncle called her. Mrs. Mansfield did her duty, it -is true, but her good husband's parishioners dreaded her although -they obeyed her. Her husband praised her, but wondered in his heart -of hearts why more people did not love her. In especial he could not -understand why little Margot objected to her. As a matter of fact, if -it were not for Uncle Jack, this small girl would have found her life -intolerably dull. She had managed, nobody quite knew how, to get into -the very centre of the heart of the grave, patient-looking clergyman -and, because of this fact which she knew and he knew, she got on quite -well, otherwise--but little Margot did not dare to think of otherwise. -Was she not herself a mixture of both Irish and French, and could there -be any two nations more sure to produce a child like Margot--a child -full of life and fearlessness, of fun and daring? - -She longed inexpressibly for companionship, but young people were not -permitted to visit at the Rectory. She dreamed long dreams of her -father's people in the Château St. Juste, an old place near Arles, in -South France, and of her mother's people at Desmondstown--an old estate -gone almost to rack and ruin, for where was the money to keep it up? - -Mr. Mansfield was well aware of the state to which both families -had been reduced, but when his little darling, as he called Margot, -liked to talk about her father's and mother's people, he invariably -encouraged her; that is, provided her aunt was not present. Mrs. -Mansfield snapped up the child whenever her own people were talked of. -She assured her that both families had gone to the dogs and did not -even remember her existence. - -"You ought to be very thankful to have an uncle and aunt like myself -and your Uncle John," said the good woman. "If my John was not what -he is, you would be nothing more nor less than a miserable little -beggar. See that you obey us both and do your best to return the great -kindnesses that we show you." - -Little Margot St. Juste found it quite easy to respond to her uncle's -kindness, but her aunt's was a totally different matter. Mrs. -Mansfield's kindness consisted of "Don't, don't, _don't_," repeated -with increasing energy from morning to night. - -"Don't attempt to stand on the hearth-rug, you bad child." "Don't look -so silly; get your seam and begin to sew." "Don't stare at me out of -those eyes of yours; you make me quite sick when you do, and above all -things don't make a fool of your poor, overworked uncle. He has no -right to teach you Latin and Greek. Such languages are not meant for -women and I shall tell him so, if you don't do it yourself. Do you hear -me?" - -But Margot was always coming across what she called "last straws" and -this happened to be one. She was not afraid of her aunt, she only hated -her. Now she went straight up to her and stared fully into her eyes. - -"What's the matter with you, you nasty, rude little beggar?" - -"I'm _not_ a beggar, auntie," replied Margot. "I'm going to ask Uncle -Jack about that. He always tells me the truth." - -Now Mrs. Mansfield, severe as she was, had a certain wholesome fear of -her good husband. - -"You dare not repeat what I say," was her remark. "I--I'll whip you if -you do." - -"Then I'll have that, also, to tell Uncle Jack," replied Margot. -"Auntie, you had best leave me alone. I intend to learn Latin and -Greek, and I won't say a word of what you said just now to Uncle Jack -if you'll let me alone. See, auntie, you had best for your own sake." - -Margot gave the angry woman a bright glance of triumph and walked -out of the room with the air of a small conqueror. At this time she -was eleven years of age but looked younger and not the least like -the ordinary English girl. Her little round face was slightly, very -slightly, brown in tint, with a brilliant rose colour on each small -cheek. Her eyes were large, soft, and black as night. Her eyebrows -were well arched and also black. She had a charming little mouth and -quantities of thick curly black hair. - -This was the small child who, to a great extent, ruled the Rectory. It -is true that Mrs. Mansfield stormed at her a great deal, but Margot -was accustomed to her harsh words and by degrees took little notice of -them. She was naturally very brave; she did not know what fear meant. -She tried to do her best for auntie, but as auntie would never be -satisfied she comforted herself with Uncle Jack. It was easy to get on -with him for Uncle Jack and Margot loved each other with a great love. - -The study at the Rectory was a very shabby and small room, but to -Margot it seemed like Heaven. She sat there day after day for several -hours, busy over her Latin and Greek. She did not care in the least for -these languages, but they ensured her being for some little time with -Uncle Jack, and then, when the lessons were over, the treat followed. -It was that treat which supported Margot through the many trials of her -small life. - -She had arranged this treat for herself some little time ago and Mrs. -Mansfield knew nothing about it. Always when the last Greek verb was -finished, and the lesson books put away on a shelf which Margot kept -in perfect order for the purpose, the little girl used to skip away to -the kitchen and there coax Hannah, the cook, to give her two cups of -tea and two slices of cake. With these she returned to the study and -then deliberately locked the door. The tea and the cakes were placed -close to Uncle Jack. Margot swept his books and manuscripts carefully -to one side and then, having carefully fed him first with tea and cake, -proceeded to munch her own portion. - -She was always rather quick in eating her slice of very plain cake. -Then she put all signs of the feast away behind a newspaper, knowing -that the cook would fetch them by-and-bye. After this she climbed on -her uncle's knee, clasped her little arms round his neck and began her -invariable request, - -"Now, Jacko, darling----" - -"You oughtn't to call me Jacko, little heart's love." - -"I like it," repeated the child. "I wouldn't say it for all the world -before her, but it makes us sort of equal, don't you understand? You're -Jacko and I'm Margot. We are playmates, you know. You are not a great -learned clergyman any longer. You are just the playmate of little -Margot. Come along, Jacko, don't let's waste time. I know she's out. -She's visiting all the poor people; it's her day for collecting their -pennies. We'll have a whole lovely hour if you don't waste time. It's -the Irish turn to-day; tell me all you can about the Desmonds. My -mother was a Desmond, wasn't she?" - -"She was, sure," said the Rector, who happened to be an Irishman -himself, but was careful to keep that fact a secret except when he and -Margot talked together. - -"And the Desmonds were mighty chiefs--great warriors?" continued -Margot. "They feared nobody nor nothing. All the women were beautiful -and all the men were brave. Now go on, Jacko, go on." - -"The castle had a portcullis," said Uncle Jack, and then he burst into -imaginary stories of the Desmonds, whom he hardly knew at all. - -"You forget what you are talking about to-day," said Margot, taking -up the thread. "As you enter by the front door you find yourself in a -great hall, covered all over with armour--perfect suits of armour." - -"Yes, of course I forget," said Uncle Jack, "and the hall goes up as -high as the roof, and there is the ingle nook, where the fire is never -let out day nor night." - -"Never--never let out," muttered Margot. "Tell me about the men now, -Uncle Jack." - -"Oh, bless your heart, puss, they are fine fellows, those Desmonds--big -and broad and with sparkling eyes." - -"And the chief is called 'The Desmond'?" interrupted little Margot. - -"Yes, that's true enough. It's a very fine title to be sure." - -"And what sort are the ladies?" asked Margot. - -"Bless you, child, something like yourself, only perhaps not quite -so dark, but to hear 'em laugh and to hear 'em sing would make the -water stand in your eyes, that it would--just for the joy of it; you -understand, Margot." - -"Yes, uncle, and my mother was one?" - -"She was that, and the best of 'em all." - -"Now, describe every inch of her, Uncle Jack," said Margot. -"Begin--begin, go on--go on." - -Now it so happened that the Rev. John Mansfield was not famous for -descriptions, but he did draw a certain picture of Kathleen Desmond -which was not in the least like that young lady, but which abundantly -satisfied her child. Her cheeks grew redder than ever as she listened -and she panted slightly as she snuggled against her beloved uncle. - -"My mother must have been quite perfect," said little Margot. "Are -there any of them left now, Uncle Jack?" - -"Any of them left, child? Why, there is Norah and Bridget and Eileen, -and there are three fine boys as well, and there's 'himself' as strong -as ever, and madam, his wife, who has the finest lace in the county." - -"I _would_ like to know them," said Margot. "Why can't I get to know -them, Uncle Jack?" - -"Because they are just too poor to have ye with them, my little -_asthore_--that's the truth of the matter. You have got to stay with -Uncle Jack and make the best of it." - -"But if I went for one week--couldn't I stay with them for one week, -uncle? I do so dreadfully want to know Norah and Bridget and Eileen." - -"'Tis aunts they are to ye, my pretty." - -"Yes, and what are the names of the boys, and what are they to me?" - -"Uncles to be sure, _acushla machree_. There's Fergus, called after The -Desmond, and there's Bruce and there's Malachi." - -"Malachi--that does sound a funny name," said Margot. - -"It belonged to the finest of the old Irish kings," said Uncle Jack, -and he began to hum the well-known tune "_When Malachi Wore His Collar -of Gold_." - -"There now, that's enough," said Margot. "You are wonderful to-day, -Jacko, you are quite wonderful. But can't we go to see them while -auntie is away?" - -"There's no money. _Acushla machree_, there isn't a penny." - -"Look here, Jacko, and don't talk about there being no money. These are -mine--they belong to me." - -The child thrust her hand into her little pocket. - -"Auntie thinks she keeps them for me, but I took them away my lone -self ages and ages back and she has never missed them. They belonged -to my father, who was the young Comte St. Juste. See, this seal and -this watch and chain and this necklet he bought for mother, and -these bracelets. We can sell 'em and get plenty of money to go to -Desmondstown." - -"Why to be sure, so we could," said Uncle Jack, "but you make me feel -like a wicked old man, little puss." - -"No, no, you are a perfect darling. Promise faithful and true that -you'll take me to Desmondstown when auntie goes away to visit her sick -friend. She's going in a week or fortnight and she'll be away for a -whole fortnight at least. I was naughty, last night, Jacko, and I -eavesdropped when she was telling cook. She's going Friday week and -we're going to Desmondstown on Friday week." - -"Listen to me, Margot. I can't lie to you, child; it is a thing that -couldn't be. I have to stay here to attend to my parochial work and I -cannot leave even if I want to, but I'll tell you what I'll do, little -puss. I'll sell just as many of these things as are required--not -nearly all, for all won't be wanted, and I'll take you myself and I'll -put you on board the steamer and look out for a kind Irish lady, who'll -put you into the right train for Desmondstown. Now, for goodness' sake, -let me sweep these things into a drawer. I hear herself coming in. -We mustn't let a word on to her, child, and you must be back with me -faithful and true before she returns." - -"That I will, Jacko, you may be sure of that." - -The treasures were locked into one of Uncle Jack's drawers. The door of -the study was unlocked and little Margot ran out into the garden. She -kept singing in her high, clear voice, "_When Malachi Wore His Collar -of Gold_." She felt beside herself with happiness. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A VISIT TO IRELAND. - - -It so happened that after his last interview with little Margot St. -Juste, the Rev. John Mansfield became subject to a strange uneasiness -of conscience. Never before had he attempted to do anything underhand. -He was a God-fearing and excellent man and was respected and loved by -all his parishioners. Mrs. Mansfield was respected and not loved, but -it was impossible to see much of the Rev. John without feeling his -sympathy, and acknowledging that burning love for all human souls which -filled his breast. - -Nevertheless this most excellent man was going to act in a deceitful -way. He was going to do something, and that something was to be -concealed from the wife of his bosom. He had long felt the injustice -of keeping little Margot apart from her relations, and when the child -pleaded and pleaded as she alone knew how, and even provided means that -would secure the necessary cash, he could resist her no longer. - -Nevertheless the good man was miserable. His sermons seemed to have -lost their power. He walked with a decided stoop and a heavy expression -on his face, and Mrs. Mansfield wondered if her husband, that most -excellent John, was suddenly developing old age. - -Meanwhile little Margot was in the highest of high spirits. She was -more attentive than usual to her aunt. - -"It is quite easy to be good when you are happy," thought little -Margot, and she sang with greater spirit than ever "_When Malachi Wore -His Collar of Gold_." But when she ventured to allude to the subject to -Jacko, he desired her to hush. He spoke with a certain severity which -she had never before noticed on his face. Nevertheless when he saw a -look of distress creep into her brilliant, rosy cheeks, he took her on -his knee, assured her that all was quite--quite right, that his promise -was his promise--only he would rather not speak of it. - -The Friday so full of events drew on apace. The house was to receive -a thorough spring cleaning. Mrs. Mansfield would be absent exactly a -fortnight. During that time Margot was to be a very good child and look -after her dear, kind uncle, without whose aid she would be nothing but -a beggar maid, and Margot promised to do her very best for Uncle Jack, -her black eyes twinkling as she spoke. - -Mrs. Mansfield left home early in the morning and, the moment she had -gone, Margot danced into her uncle's study. - -"Jacko, Jacko," she cried, "she's gone--she's gone! Good riddance, say -I. Now we are going to begin our fun." - -"You must not talk of your aunt like that," said Uncle John. "Are your -things packed, _acushla machree_?" - -"To be sure," said Margot. "Dear, kind Cook Hannah helped me. -She brought an old leather trunk down to my room and it is chock -full--chock full, Jacko. I'm taking presents to my three aunts, Norah, -Bridget and Eileen, and to my uncles, Fergus and Bruce and Malachi. -I'd like well, Jacko, that you gave me money to buy a new pipe for The -Desmond and something for madam as well. I don't know what great Irish -ladies like. Do you think a big box of candy would suit her when she -can't sleep o' nights?" - -"I would not buy any more presents if I were you, my pet," said Uncle -Jack. "Now, see here, I have managed everything. It is very wicked of -me, but I'm doing it." - -"It is nice to be wicked sometimes," said Margot, with untold fun -flashing in her beautiful eyes. - -"No, no, little one, it is wrong to be wicked, and I am deceiving the -best of women; I feel it terribly on my conscience." - -"Who is the best of women, Jacko, darling?" inquired little Margot. - -"There now, then, I'll tell you if you'll listen to me. It's that aunt -of yours, Priscilla Mansfield." - -"Oh!" exclaimed Margot. "Jacko, your conscience is too tender. It wants -some kisses. Three kisses on each cheek--three kisses on your forehead -and three on your lips. Now you are better, are you not?" - -"Yes, I'm better," replied Uncle Jack, "but remember, Margot, -_asthore_, that you have got to obey me to the very letter." - -"Course," replied Margot. "I couldn't do anything else." - -"Well then, you listen. You stay at Desmondstown in the county of Kerry -for one week and no longer, and during that time you're on no account -to speak against your aunt to the Desmonds. This is Friday. You will -get to Desmondstown to-morrow. To-morrow week I'll be waiting on the -pier to get you off the steamer." - -"Yes, uncle, I'll do everything." - -"Well, child, I have ordered a cab to fetch us to the railway station -at 11 o'clock. What's more, I have written to The Desmond to tell him -to look out for you. I haven't sold many of your things, my child, but -I've got the price of your return ticket all the way to Desmondstown -and five shillings over, in case you should want some trifles on the -journey. Only remember that you must not waste your precious money. -'Waste not, want not'--that's an excellent proverb, Margot." - -"Oh, Jacko, you are getting so like Aunt Priscilla. Don't--don't say -any more." - -"I won't, my colleen, but see! have you got a pocket in your little -skirt?" - -"Yes, to be sure, and I sewed up the hole yesterday when Auntie -Priscilla wasn't looking." - -"Let me feel that it is all nice and tight," said the Rector. He put -in his big hand, pronounced the pocket safe enough, and then inserted -a tiny purse which he had bought for Margot and into which he put five -shillings. - -"Here's your purse, Margot child, and here's your money, and when I buy -your ticket you must be sure to keep the return half safe in your purse -or you'll never come back to your own poor Jacko again." - -"Oh, won't I!" said Margot. "I have feet and I can use them--trot, -trot, trot, trot; look Jacko!" - -"You can't trot on the sea, child." - -"I'll keep everything safe as safe," repeated Margot. "I'll do every -single thing that you want me to do and you may look out for me -to-morrow week on the pier. I shall know all about Norah and Bridget -and Eileen and Fergus and Bruce and Malachi by then. Oh, shan't I feel -rich and aren't you just the darlingest and best of uncles?" - -"Run upstairs now, child, and put on your hat. The cab will be round in -a moment." - -Margot disappeared. - -"Bless her little heart," murmured the clergyman, "I'll just miss her -terrible, but it stands to reason that she should get to know her own -grandparents and her own uncles and aunts. I suppose I'm doing wrong -but I can't help myself. May God forgive a weak old man. I haven't the -righteous courage of my Priscilla." - -Little Margot was a delightful companion in the cab. She was quite -as fascinating in the train, which bore them at last to that part of -the coast where a steamer sped daily from Fishguard to Rosslare. The -old-fashioned trunk was hoisted on the shoulders of a sturdy porter. -From him it disappeared by means of a crane into some unknown and -apparently awful depths. - -The Rev. John looked round him anxiously. Was there anyone on board -who would take care of the little girl and put her into the right train -for Kerry? At last he came across a man who undoubtedly hailed from the -Emerald Isle. He had bushy whiskers and small, twinkling grey eyes; -a wide-cut mouth, and no nose to speak of. Uncle John looked at him, -considered him and finally made up his mind to speak to him. - -He had hoped to come across a respectable lady of his little darling's -own rank in life, but did not see one. Meanwhile the stranger's eyes -twinkled more than ever and at last he came up to Uncle John and of his -own accord held out a huge paw. - -"How bain't I mistook or bain't I not, but be ye never Jacky Mansfield, -son of Farmer Mansfield, bless his sowl? Why he was took years and -years ago. Stroked he was, and the stroke was so mighty it took the -breath out of him, and he didn't live the night out. He's all right, -though--he died a good Christian man. Are ye comin' over to Ireland -thinkin' to see him, John Mansfield? for ye won't, he's not there. -'It's a poor, disthressful country' we 'as in these times, John -Mansfield. You are best out of it. I couldn't help noticin' ye, seein' -as we stole so many wild birds' eggs together." - -"Let it be," said the Reverend John. "I'm glad to see ye, Phinias -Maloney. I'm not goin' to Ireland at all, but I want someone very -badly to look after this little maid here. She's my niece in a kind of -fashion and I've had the bringing of her up since her parents died. She -wants to go to Desmondstown. You must remember her mother, Phinias?" - -"Remember her?" said the Irishman, "remember the 'light of the -morning'? She was all that and more. But they are in a poor way now -at Desmondstown, although they manage to keep together. The gentlemen -are all for the huntin' and so for that matter are the young ladies, -too. Young, I call them, and will, while I live. Why ever should age be -added to their burdens? And so this little missie is own grandchild to -The Desmond?" - -"She is that," replied the Reverend John, "and I'm sending her over -to see her own people for one week and no more. I'd take it as a high -favour, Phinias, if you would put her into the right train for Kerry -and see after her a little bit when she lands, for she is only a wee -colleen--half French, half Irish. You might help me that much for the -sake of old times, Phinias Maloney." - -"Have no fear, man," was Phinias' reply. "I keep me father's old farm -and have a wife and three fine childer. They are frettin' like anythin' -at me leaving of 'em, but I had to go to get praties that'll yield a -good harvest. What did ye say the little miss's name was?" - -"Marguerite St. Juste." - -"Ah, well, I can't quite get my tongue round that, but I'll call her -Magsie--her'll understand Magsie--it's a good sounding, sensible title -wid no foreign blood about it." - -Accordingly Uncle John placed his pretty little treasure in very -capable hands. Phinias Maloney was a very rough-looking man, but he was -the soul of honesty and good nature, and had the highest respect in the -world for the Desmonds of Desmondstown. He went and had a chat with the -captain, who, as a great favour, allowed him to sit on deck with little -Margot. But Margot's black eyes were brimful of tears. She was by no -means taken by the look of Phinias, and her frantic desire to see her -grandparents and aunts and uncles well nigh vanished when she parted -with her beloved Jacko. - -"Now then, missie, we'll have a fine time," said Phinias. "The wather -smooth as a pond and you going to the most elegant place in the whole -of the county of Kerry. I can't make out how 'himself' is your uncle, -but there! I don't bother me head wid what I don't understand. He's a -good fellow is John Mansfield." - -"He's the best man in all the world," said Margot, crushing back her -tears with an effort. "He's a very, very holy man, but my aunt, she's a -wicked woman. I mustn't tell the Desmonds about her, Phinias, but she -is a very wicked woman, and but for me, that holy saint wouldn't live -long. It's me he really loves. He pretends to love her, but that is -just because of his holiness. Are you a holy man, Phinias Maloney?" - -"Ach, not me!" said Phinias. "I has enough to do without bein' howly as -well. My poor knees wouldn't stand it" - -"What do you mean by that, Phinias, aren't you a bit silly?" said -Margot. She had begun to get over a little of her grief and to enjoy -a talk with her peculiar-looking companion. "What do you mean? Speak, -man," she repeated. - -"I manes this, missie _asthore_. Howly men are most found on their bent -knees wid their heads thrown back cryin' out to God A'mighty to have -mercy on miserable sinners." - -"Uncle Jacko never does anything quite so foolish," replied Margot. -"You don't understand him, and we won't talk of him any more." - -"I like that," replied Phinias, "when him and me, we took eggs out of -every wild bird's nest in the county." - -"Well, then, it was you that tempted him," said Margot. "It was a -bitter, cruel thing to do, and you ought to be 'shamed of yourself, -Phinias." - -"Lawk a mercy, listen to the bit thing," cried Phinias, with a hearty -laugh. "Him and me was ekal in those days, though now he's above me--no -doubt on that." - -"He's a holy man, and you wouldn't have the right to tie his shoes," -replied Margot. - -Phinias gazed with some complacency and amusement at the quaint little -figure. Presently he turned the conversation to long and exciting talks -about Desmondstown and the young ladies and the young gentlemen and old -madam and The Desmond himself. - -"Ye'll have to be mighty particular when ye gets there, little miss. -The Desmond won't stand any freedoms like. He's as proud as proud can -be, though he's got nothing else to be proud of but that he's _The_ -Desmond, so ye must mind your p's and q's. Don't ye play any pranks on -him, missie, or it'll turn out bad for ye." - -"I won't, Phinias, I won't indeed. I'm going to be quite a good girl on -account of that holy man, my uncle. But please tell me what Malachi is -like." - -"Oh," said Phinias, clapping his horny hands and giving vent to a -roaring laugh. "There's a boy for ye, if ye like. There ain't a boy in -any part of Ireland, from east to west, from north to south, can beat -Malachi; why he could sit a horse that would throw anyone else off its -back in a twinklin'. The horse may buck-jump, may do any mortal thing -he likes to do, but once Malachi's acrost him, 'tis no use and he knows -it, for there Malachi'll stay." - -"And tell me about the others, please," said Margot. - -"Oh, the ladies, ye mane. They're young, mortal young--they are babes -of innocence. They don't know the world and they don't want to. Malachi -breaks in horses for 'em, and they ride and ride and ride, and that's -about all they can do. Fergus, the wan who is to take the title after -his father, is more severe like, but he's a handsome lad for all that, -and so is Bruce for that matter." - -"And do they all live at Desmondstown?" inquired Margot. - -"To be sure, and where else would they live!" - -"But they can't be so young if my mother was their sister," said Margot. - -Phinias bent towards the little girl. - -"Whist, missie, whist, _mavourneen_" he said. "We never talks of -birthdays in the ould country. Age! We don't know what age is. If we -ever knew it we forgets it. We are all young--young as new-born chicks. -Now then, missie, you'd best go and lie down, for it may be gettin' a -bit rough by-the-bye, and we're due at Rosslare early in the morning." - -Margot sat very still for a few minutes. - -"Phinias," she said, then, "I have a little money, a very little money -by me. Can I have a bite and a sup to eat and drink?" - -"To be sure ye can; for sartin ye can. What 'ud ye fancy now? A drop of -whisky I'd say, or a bottle of Guinness' stout." - -"Oh, no, please; may I have a cup of tea and a little bread and butter?" - -"I'll get it for ye, honey bird, and for the Lord's sake don't mention -the word _age_ in Ould Ireland. There ain't sich a thing. Mind me now -and be careful!" - -"I will," said Margot, "I'll be very careful." - -Presently the farmer returned with some very uninteresting tea and -bread and butter, which he offered to the little girl. She was hungry -and faint, also, for all this unexpected excitement had made her -terribly tired. But when she offered to pay, Phinias shook his shaggy -head. - -"Not me," he said, "not a bit of me. I guess ye'll want your money, for -them colleens and boys at Desmondstown. This 'ull pay for some of the -eggs that your uncle, John Mansfield, robbed from the birdies afore he -turned a howly saint." - -So Margot ate her uninteresting meal, found the stewardess extremely -kind, got into the berth reserved for her and slept soundly until she -was awakened at 6 o'clock on the following morning by Phinias himself. - -"Here we be, missie; here we be. If we are quick we can get lovely -coffee at the restaurant in the station and then off we goes to Kerry. -I'll take ye as far as the gates of Desmondstown and don't ye fear -nuthin'. Be as free as ye like with Miss Norah and Miss Bridget and -Miss Eileen, and be playful as a kitten wid Master Bruce and Master -Malachi, but hold yeself in a bit with Madam Desmond and The Desmond -and Fergus, the future heir. There! I can say no more. We'll be -travelling third, forsooth, in order to make the money go, and I'll be -surrounded by ould friends--only don't ye forget there's NO AGE in Ould -Ireland. Kape that fact stuck in your breast and all 'ull go well. Ah, -never mind favouring the stewardess with a tip--shure, Mrs. Mulchi, ye -wouldn't be robbin' the poor orphan." - -"To be sure I wouldn't, Phinias," replied Mrs. Mulchi. - -Margot was now intensely excited, although she did feel a certain sense -of disappointment at observing that the grass was much the same colour -as the grass in England. That the trees also appeared much about the -same; and even the flowers, the daisies and buttercups were what she -was accustomed to. But Phinias Maloney supplied her with an excellent -breakfast of good coffee, bread and butter, new-laid eggs and honey. - -"Ye'll be wantin' all ye can git," he said, "and I tell ye what I -knows. Stuff it in, stuff it in, missie, and thin we'll take our places -in the train. Ah, to be sure won't thim giddy young things be glad to -lay eyes on ye?" - -"Do you think they will, Phinias?" answered Margot, who regarded the -uncouth Irishman now as an old friend. "Do you really and truly mean -it?" - -"Does I think it? Don't I _know_ it? It's hugging ye they'll be, -and don't ye repulse them whatever ye does, and when the gurrls is -kittenish, ye be kittenish too. Ah, well, I can't give any more -advice for the present for I see several old friends makin' for this -compartment, drat 'em, and ye must hould up your head and look mighty -proud. The Desmonds of Desmondstown! there ain't their like in the -county." - -Poor little Margot endured that long and weary journey as best she -could. It was the spring of the year and the feeling of spring seemed -to have got into the breast of every individual who crowded into that -uncomfortable carriage. The farmers smoked and talked incessantly about -the lambing season and Margot, presently, unable to keep her eyes open, -dropped asleep with her head on the shoulder of Phinias. - -She felt as though she had known Phinias all her life by now. At Mallow -they changed and Phinias provided a second excellent meal, also out of -the birds' eggs which Uncle John had stolen before he became a saint. -He further told the child that if she was in any sort of a bit of a -throuble any wan would tell her where Phinias Maloney's farm was, -and he'd help her and so would "herself" help her, and so would the -childher help her from the bottom of their hearts. - -Then they got into the train, which took them into the famous and -lovely county of Kerry and by-and-bye, about five in the evening, they -drew up at a little wayside station. Here a very rough-looking cart was -waiting for Phinias and a small boy who was addressed as "gossoon" was -standing by the horse's head. - -Phinias was now most deferential in his manner to Margot. He got Nat, -the gossoon, to assist him to hoist her old leather trunk into the -cart, and then he whispered a word or two into the ears of the said -gossoon, which induced the boy in question to give Margot many and -amazed glances. - -"Ye couldn't reach to the height of her forever and ever and -ever and a day," remarked Phinias to Nat, the gossoon. "Ain't -she own granddaughter to The Desmond and child to beautiful Miss -Kathleen--bless her white sowl--and wasn't her father a nobleman of -France? You kape your manners tight on your head when ye look at her, -Nat. We'll have to drive right round to Desmondstown. The young ladies -must be expectin' her by now, belike, and thim young boys must be -hankerin' for a sight of her. Now then, gee up, Dobbin, gee up!" - -Off they started in the springless cart, up hill and down dale. The -evening light flooded the land and Margot was too excited and too -fascinated by the beauty of the scene round her to remember either her -deadly fatigue or any little stray crumbs of nervousness which might be -lingering in her breast. - -At last they pulled up at a tumbled-down gate. The last time that gate -was painted must have been many long years ago. There was an avenue -winding along inside and covered with weeds. Nat lifted the leather -trunk out of the cart with reverence. Phinias took off his shabby hat, -pulled his forelock and said, - -"Welcome, ten thousand times, _céàd míle fáilte_, to Desmondstown, -missie _asthore_, missie _mavourneen_." Then he bent his head and, -lowering his voice, said, - -"We must be about our business, missie, but we'll put the bit trunk -under this laurel bush and some of thim young boys 'ull fetch it for -ye, and ye walk down the avenue bould and free, wid no sort of shyness -in ye, and when ye comes to the front door, ring the bell. Most like -the bell 'ull be broke. If so it be, and like enough it will be, turn -the handle and walk in. There ain't no one 'ull interfere wid ye, but -bear in mind we are all _young_ in these parts." - -With these words he left the somewhat desolate little girl. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -AN IRISH CHIEFTAIN AT HOME. - - -Now The Desmond was tall, broad, and of enormous height. Although he -was by no means a young man, he walked with great erectness. His hair, -somewhat scanty now, was of a soft white. His beard was long and white, -also, but his eyes were large and black and his complexion somewhat -resembled that of little Marguerite St. Juste. It was of a soft brown -tint and, old as he was, there was still a vivid colour in his cheeks. - -This ancient descendant of an ancient race was, however, more feared -than loved. In short, The Desmond ruled his little kingdom with a -rod of iron. He never allowed familiarities between himself and his -retainers. He could scarcely be spoken of as affectionate, and yet he -had a strain of affection somewhere in his heart. That affection was -entirely bestowed upon his lost, most beautiful and most dearly loved -child, Kathleen. Like many Irishmen of his race, he was reserved with -regard to his secret sorrows. He could not bear Kathleen's name to be -mentioned in his presence and never once did he allude to the orphan -child whom his pretty girl had left behind her. If he had any feeling -towards the father of the said child, it almost amounted to hatred. - -He could not abide, as he said once to Madam, "the Frenchies and their -ways." - -Henri St. Juste had, beyond doubt, hastened the end of his beautiful -Kathleen. This was his belief. He wept the slow, difficult tears of the -aged often at night as he thought about her, but he made no enquiries -whatsoever with regard to the child and once, when Madam, in her timid, -coaxing way, ventured to suggest that Kathleen's child should come to -Desmondstown, The Desmond raised a shout of mighty anger and desired -her to hold her peace or she would be sorry for herself. - -Now of course Desmondstown was a typical old Irish place. It was going -to rack and ruin as fast as ever it could. There was no money to keep -it in order. There was just enough money to supply food and a sort -of clothing for the inmates, to supply Malachi with horses, which he -trained, some for himself, some for his sisters, some for his brothers, -and the rest of which he sold, giving his father one-half of the -profits. - -Malachi's horses were almost the only available assets at -Desmondstown; for The Desmond, although fierce, even ferocious at -times, was good-natured to his tenants and strictly forbade any -evictions on his estates. He gave his sons the scantiest of all -possible educations with the exception of Fergus, who was his heir. -Fergus, by scraping and toiling, he managed to send first of all to a -fairly good school and then to Trinity College, Dublin. Fergus he also -supplied with suitable clothes, but he never thought of his earning any -money. It never occurred to him that any of his sons should work. Debts -abounded all over the place and Desmondstown was in reality mortgaged -very nearly up to the hilt. - -The gardens had gone to ruin, the ancient avenue was more like a field -path than anything else. All the gardeners had been dismissed. Only the -stablemen and grooms and the garden boy remained outside the house, -and within there were the cook, Biddy Magee, and the housemaid, Grace -Connor, and Peter, the old butler. These were typical Irish people, -untidy, not too clean, but, as The Desmond said, all that he could -possibly afford. - -Bit by bit, and by slow degrees, the lovely china, the Chippendale -furniture, the coats of mail, which were supposed to decorate the old -hall, disappeared in order that there might be food and wine for The -Desmond and his tribe. There was also a quantity of valuable silver, -the most famous in the county, which followed the same fate. The -carpets were worn to shreds, the curtains hung in tatters from the -windows--everything was in a hopeless state of confusion. In fact, -a more dilapidated home than Desmondstown could scarcely be found -anywhere, even in that region of dilapidated homes, the county of Kerry. - -Nevertheless, the Misses Desmond held their heads high, and their -brothers, with the exception of Fergus, were highly popular in the -neighbourhood. Fergus was grave and dark, like his father before him. -Now and then he even felt a degree of sorrow at the rapid decay of the -old place. But to work--to have it even _said_ that the man who would -one day be The Desmond should work--was beyond his wildest dreams. He -led a rather melancholy life therefore, taking little or no notice -of his sisters, but often walking out with his old father, who was -becoming glad of the support of his stalwart arm. - -Now it was a custom at Desmondstown, as indeed it was the custom in -every house in that part of Ireland, to let letters go their own way, -bedad! Letters meant bills, and the best way to treat bills was not -to answer them. Accordingly the long and careful letter which the -Rev. John Mansfield wrote with regard to little Margot reached her -grandfather, it is true, all in good time. But it only _just_ reached -him, for after staring for a minute at the handwriting he thrust it -unopened into his pocket and forgot all about it. - -Little Margot, whatever she went through with Uncle Jack, lived at -least in a fairly neat home, where her much dreaded aunt, Priscilla -Mansfield, kept everything in apple-pie order. She had no fear but -that the letter had travelled on before her, and that she would find -her uncles and aunts, who were so _very_ young, and her grandfather -and grandmother, who were equally old, all waiting on the tip-toe of -expectation for the little colleen. - -When Margot parted with Phinias, she felt just a trifle lonely, but -very soon this feeling passed and she was only conscious of the -sensation that she was at last in very earnest going home, but the -avenue was long and weedy. A good many broken branches of trees were -scattered about and, walk as fast as she might, she could not get a -peep of the old house. As a matter of fact, the old avenue was quite -two miles in length and the child was already very tired. - -There was a broken stump of a tree which offered a fairly comfortable -resting place. She sat down on it and burst into tears. Her tears -were bitter. This was by no means the Desmondstown of her dreams. In -the midst of her sobs, however, she heard the low-pitched voices of -women who were certainly no longer young. She wondered if some of -the servants were about and if she might address them, but the next -instant, before she could make up her mind how to act, the low voices -ended off into peals of laughter, and two women appeared, dressed -from head to foot in very coarse white piqué, one holding the sash of -the other, while behind them came a grey-haired and decidedly ugly -clergyman, who held the sash of the last and oldest sister. He gave her -some infantile pats from time to time with a morsel of briar which he -carried and desired her "to hould herself stiddy, and to kape it up." - -"Oh, oh, but me heart 'ull break--Bridget, me heart 'ull break. Did -I iver hear the like of the way this man goes on! Mr. Flannigan, -you belong to the Church of Ireland, and you ought to be ashamed of -yourself, beating a poor young colleen like me." - -"Hold up, Norah, don't let him get any nearer. Oh, by the powers! -whoever is that little pixie seated on the log!" - -Margot rose with considerable dignity from her seat. She approached the -two excited-looking, old young ladies. Their hair was sandy in tint -and much mixed with grey, but their figures were slight as girls of -fifteen, and they were evidently enjoying themselves to the utmost. - -"Oh, pixie, pixie, don't come near us," cried Norah. "Mr. Flannigan, -keep the pixie away for Heaven's sake." - -"I'm not a pixie," said little Margot. "I know you are very young, -Aunt Norah, and you are very young, Aunt Bridget, but I'm your niece -for all that. I am Marguerite St. Juste. I've come to pay my relations -a visit. Uncle Jack wrote a letter to The Desmond. The Desmond is my -grandfather. Aren't you expecting me? I'm glad to come, but I'd like -well to be expected." - -The two Misses Desmond stared with all their might and main at the -pretty child, then Miss Bridget Desmond gave a sort of whoop and spring -in the air, while Miss Norah laughed till her sides shook. - -"Heaven preserve us!" she exclaimed. "You don't suppose letters -are _ever_ read at Desmondstown? Oh, but we are right glad to see -you--don't make any mistake on that point. We are as pleased as Punch, -aren't we, Bridget?" - -"That we are," said Bridget. "Don't hold my sash so tight, Mr. -Flannigan, I can't be bothered playing horse any more." - -"Oh, good little girls, dear little girls," said Mr. Flannigan, "I'll -come in again to-morrow and play horses with all three of ye. But ye -might introduce me to the small colleen." - -"She's my niece," said Norah Desmond. "She's the daughter of my dearest -beautiful sister, Kathleen, and there's scarce a year between the child -and us, that I can vouch for." - -"To be sure, ye needn't be talkin' about that," said Mr. Flannigan. -"Why I see it in your faces--ye are three babies together." - -Little Margot gave a quick sigh. She remembered, however, the words of -Phinias and took no apparent notice of the fact that Aunt Norah must be -close on fifty and Aunt Bridget forty-eight. - -"We'll take you back home with us, little 'un," said the youngest of -the Misses Desmond. "Here, let's scamper down the avenue. Good day to -ye, Mr. Flannigan. There's no more playing at horses to-night. The -pixie is tired, so she is. Here, catch her under the arm, Bridget, and -I'll take her on the other side. Now then, put out your best foot, -colleen bawn, you'll soon be home. Eh, but it's an elegant place you -are coming to." - -The tumbled, untidy sisters managed to get little Margot down the rest -of the avenue, and presently they all bounded into the house, Miss -Norah giving vent to a loud "Whoop!" as she did so. - -This noise brought two untidy looking men on the scene. - -"Be the powers, now, pixie, these are me brothers," said Norah. "This -one is Bruce and this one is Malachi--the finest horse-breaker in the -whole kingdom." - -"Oh, are you indeed, are you indeed?" said little Margot, "and you are -very young, too, though you _look_ old." - -"It's the climate, _acushla_," said Malachi, "but whatever brings ye -wandering round, and who are ye, when all's said and done?" - -"Let me speak," interrupted Norah. "Bridget and me we were havin' a -game of horses with Mr. Flannigan, the new curate, and a rare bit of -fun we had out of it, too, when who should we see but this pixie seated -on the trunk of an old tree! She said her name was--whatever did ye say -your name was, pixie?" - -"I don't choose to be called pixie," said Margot. "My name is -Marguerite St. Juste, and my father was Comte St. Juste, and my mother -was Kathleen Desmond, very own sister to you all. I live with a dear, -darling, lovely uncle in England, but I thought I'd like to see -Desmondstown, and Uncle John wrote to The Desmond, who is grandfather -to me. I'd like well to see him, and there's my leather trunk, which -belonged to my mother, hiding under a big laurel bush at the gate. I -want to stay here for a full week and then I'll go away. Oh, I know you -are all terrible young. I was taught that on my way here. But you are -not as young as I am. Still, I don't mind your being young, if you play -with me and not let that dreadful curate talk to me." - -While little Margot was speaking, her eyes grew softer and darker and -brighter, the flaming red mounted into her cheeks and her young lips -trembled slightly. - -"I'm a bit hungry," she said after a pause, "and I don't see the armour -nor the ingle nook, nor the fire that never goes out day nor night." - -"Bless her heart," said Malachi, "who told you those lies about the -poor old place?" - -"They weren't lies, they were truths," said Margot. "My uncle, my -dearest darling Jacko, told me all about everything. Oh, but couldn't I -have a sup of milk or something? I'm so terrible thirsty." - -Before this very natural request could be granted, a door at the side -of the great hall was pushed open and an aged man with snow-white -hair and black eyes entered. He was followed by a little refined -gentlewoman, who looked a trifle nervous and kept on repeating, "Whist, -now, Fergus; the bit things must have their fun." - -"I don't allow noise and confusion in my house," said The Desmond, "and -whoever in the name of the Almighty is that?" - -"It is only me, grandfather," said Margot. "Uncle John wrote you a -letter about me. I wanted to see you so badly, I couldn't wait any -longer, on account of the longing that I had. I'm Margot St. Juste, -your very own little grandchild, and I want bitter bad, to have a sup -of milk. My mother was your daughter, Kathleen Desmond--and----" - -"What?" shouted the old chieftain. - -"Uncle Jack wrote to you about me, grandfather," said Margot, who with -difficulty was keeping back her tears. - -The old man strode a few paces into the great bare, empty hall. He -then turned the contents of his various pockets out and presently came -across Uncle Jacko's letter. - -"Here it is," said Margot, "here it is. Read it at once, will you, and -let me sit on your knee. I'm so glad you are old, really old. I don't -care for young people, not a bit. I know it is the will of the Almighty -that they must be young and keep young, but I like you because you are -old and my grand-dad. Please, please, let me sit on your knee." - -Just at that moment another door opened and a tall, stern-looking man, -with a strong resemblance to The Desmond, appeared on the scene. -"Why, look here, Fergus," said The Desmond, "this little pilcheen has -come along, and she is own daughter to my Kathleen, bless her. Bid her -welcome, Fergus. She shall have the best the house contains. Here's -your grandmother, missie, but you shall talk first with me. Norah, -order the dressing-room next to mine to be got ready for her, and have -a tray full of the best food brought into my smoking-room. Now then, -pilcheen----" - -"I'd rather you called me Margot, please, grand-dad." - -"Margot," said the old man, "Margot! There's no sense in such a word. -There! I'll call you Maggie; but you ought to have been christened -Kathleen, after her--her that's gone--her that was as the light of -my life. Girls, stir yourselves, and get everything ready for little -Maggie. Don't stare and gape any more. The child has come to us and she -is welcome and she shall stay as long as she likes. Now, my colleen -asthore, this lady is your grandmother, this is Madam Desmond. Girls, -stir yourselves and get things for the child to eat. Get the very best -the house contains and put the best furniture into the dressing-room. -Ain't she Kathleen's child? Madam, you and I and the little pilcheen -can sup together in the smoking-room. She's mighty like our Kathleen, -don't you think so, Madam?" - -"I do so," said Madam, "and I'm fairly hungry to kiss her, Fergus." - -"All right. Little pilcheen, you go along and kiss Madam six times and -no more, then come back to me. My God, I thank thee; she's my Kathleen -come to life again." - -Little Margot had quite got over her shyness. She was bewildered by the -queer manners of her so-called juvenile aunts, but grand-dad and Madam -delighted her. She climbed willingly on the old man's knee and nestled -snugly against his breast. - -"You are a very old man, aren't you, grand-dad?" - -"I am so, Maggie, and why shouldn't I be?" - -"I'm so glad," said little Margot. "And Madam is old, too," continued -the child. - -Madam smiled, nodded and kissed her hand. - -"Yes, darling, I'm quite old; thank the Almighty." - -"Then I'm real, real glad," said Margot. "It is so difficult to -understand old young people or young old people, I don't know which to -call 'em." - -"Listen to me, Margot," said her grandmother. "Your aunts, Eileen, -Norah, and Bridget, are young maids in their first dawn, and so for -that matter are Fergus and Bruce and Malachi also young as young can -be." - -"Ah, but I'm sorry," said little Margot. "I suppose it is all right. I -can't stay very long, grand-dad, darling, because I have faithful and -true to get back to Uncle Jack, for Uncle Jack is both my uncle and my -playfellow, but while I am here I would like most of the time to be -with you and Madam, 'cause I don't like old-young girls." - -"Come, let that be," said Madam. "The girls are only amusing -themselves, to be sure they are." - -Margot was quite silent for a minute. - -Jacko was a big man, but he was not nearly so big as The Desmond, and -she felt exceedingly comfortable nestling up in his arms, while his -snow-white beard gently touched her little brown face. - -"There's a trunk of mine," she said. "It is under a laurel bush by the -gate. Could one of the servants go and fetch it down, grandfather?" - -"Servants, bedad," exclaimed Malachi, who just then entered the room. -"Oh, yes, I'll see about the servants. I'll put everything as right as -rain." - -He marched out of the room. - -"If it is a heavy trunk, missie," he said, turning round with his -laughing eyes, "ye'll want about five men to hoist it on their -shoulders." - -"Well, that's easily done in a big place like this," he continued. - -Margot gave a contented little sigh. Madam followed her son out of the -room. She thought it well to lend a hand in the preparation of the wee -colleen's supper. - -When they were quite alone together, Margot turned and kissed The -Desmond several times. - -"You are my very own grand-dad," she said. - -"Yes, push-keen, I am that," said he. - -"I am so happy in your arms," continued Margot. "I'll tell you why. -First, because you are so big; second, because you are so beautiful and -old, and third because you belong to me." - -Again she kissed the brown cheek; and the brown eyes of the man looked -into the brown eyes of the child. - -"It's my Kathleen before she grew up," he whispered to himself, "before -she met that Frenchman, drat him." - -"Do you love me, grand-dad?" whispered Margot. - -"Yes, push-keen, I think a bit." - -"Will it be a good bit, soon, grand-dad?" - -"I'm thinking it might." - -Margot gave another sigh of intense and complete satisfaction. - -"I wanted to see the house and the place and the young girls and the -young boys and Madam, but I wanted most of all to see you, grand-dad." - -"Ah, now, that's proper," said The Desmond. Just then there was a -rustling outside the door, and Madam came in with a little tray, which -contained milk and bread and butter and home-made jam and new-laid eggs. - -Margot would not for a moment resign her post on The Desmond's knee, -but she allowed Madam to draw a little table forward and to feed her -from there. She ate with considerable appetite and looked prettier than -ever when her fatigue vanished. - -"And now I'm going to take you to bed, my baby," said Madam. - -"Yes, yes," said The Desmond. "Ye'll go off like a good colleen and -when ye are lying between the sheets--the finest linen for that -matter---- Mary, you didn't have any but the finest sheets put on the -pushkeen's bed?" - -"To be sure not, Fergus, why should I?" - -"Well, that's all right. You run off, my colleen, and I'll come and -kiss you good-night, just as I kissed my own Kathleen before the -Frenchman took her." - -So Margot, being very weary, obeyed. The leather portmanteau stood in -a very old and bare room, and Madam herself unpacked it and took out -what the child wanted for the night. At last the little tired limbs -lay between the soft Irish linen sheets and Madam kissed her grandchild -two or three times, whilst big tears filled her eyes. - -"What are you crying for, you darling old lady?" said little Margot. - -"I'm thinking of my Kathleen," said Madam. - -"I'm her little girl, therefore I'm _your_ little girl," said Margot, -pressing her small lips together in ecstasy. "Kiss me, grandmother. -Grandmother, you love me, too." - -"I do, my best mavourneen, but now I must go and get himself up, or -he'll rage at me." - -Madam tripped downstairs and presently returned with The Desmond. He -had evidently given her a hint to leave him alone with Margot. When -they were quite alone together, he pulled the curtains across one of -the windows and opened the window a little wider to let in the fresh -air, then he came close to Margot's side and kneeling down by her made -the following speech: - -"Ye need have no fear in ye, my push-keen colleen. Do ye see that door? -It opens into Madam's room and mine. If you call out even a whisper -I'll be with ye. Now say your hymn like a good child and God bless ye." - -"My hymn, what hymn?" said Margot in some astonishment. - -"Why, didn't they never teach it to ye? What a powerful, wicked shame, -but you are young and you'll soon learn. Your mother used to say it to -me every night when she was a young 'un. Come, fold your little hands -and follow me with the words." - -Margot did so. The hymn was a very baby one and very well known, but -Aunt Priscilla had never thought it worth her while to teach it to the -baby Margot. The Desmond had different views. - -"Now begin, _acushla machree_." - - - Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, - Look upon a little child, - Pity my simplicity, - Suffer me to come to thee. - Fain would I to thee be brought, - Dearest Lord, forbid it not; - In the Kingdom of thy grace - Grant a little child a place. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -OLD YOUNG PEOPLE. - - -Whether it was her great fatigue or the fact that she was sleeping at -last in the home of her ancestors, or the other fact that there was -at least _one_ dear old man living at Desmondstown, little Margot St. -Juste slept like a top during the whole of that first night in the -house where her mother had been born. She slept so soundly that she was -quite unconscious of the fact that The Desmond, accompanied by Madam, -entered the hastily improvised bedroom at the dawn of day and bent over -the child. There was a look of positive rapture on both their old faces. - -"Eh, but she's our Kathleen to the life," said Madam. - -"It's the Almighty has sent her to comfort us in our old age," said The -Desmond. "Step softly Madam, _macree_. Don't for the life of you wake -the bit thing." - -So little Margot was allowed to have her sleep out, but when she awoke -she stared about her in great bewilderment. Her three old young -uncles, and her three old young aunts were collected round the bed. -The moment she stirred, Norah made that sort of "whoop" for which she -was so celebrated, and disappeared from the room. She danced into her -father's presence. She was wearing a pink dress and was attired also -in a pale pink sash. Her hair was full of curl papers. She looked -singularly old, but had all the actions of a frolicsome kitten. - -"The pixie is awake, father," she said. - -This was the signal for intense excitement. The Desmond desired his -daughter to behave herself and put away some of her childishness. - -"I can't help being young, I _am_ young," replied Norah. - -"You're not; you are a withered twig," said The Desmond. "Find Madam -and tell her that the child is awake. Madam will see to her breakfast; -and try to dress like a woman of your years, Norah. You are nothing but -a figure of fun in that pink dress and pale pink sash." - -Norah laughed, winked, showed her really white fine teeth and -disappeared from the room. She found old Madam without much difficulty -and soon a cosy breakfast was brought up to little Margot. She was in -the midst of enjoying her second egg when The Desmond popped in his -silvery head. - -"Hullo," he said, "so here we are again." - -"Yes, yes, and it is _lovely_ to see you, grand-dad, and please come -and sit close to me and send the old young girls and the old young boys -away. Only Madam may stay if she likes, for she's a perfect darling. -Tell her--tell her to feed me. I like to be petted and I love _really_ -old people, but I don't like old young people to call me 'pixie' and -'pushkeen.'" - -With a wave of his hand, which was at once imperative and intensely -severe, The Desmond cleared the room of all his sons and daughters. -Madam sat down on the side of the bed and fed Margot, who gave herself -up to intense present enjoyment. - -"I'm so happy, granny," she said, looking at the old lady, "and I'm so -happy, grand-dad," she continued, taking the old chieftain's withered -hand and pressing her soft lips to it. "Oh, I am so very glad that you -are both really old. I don't like old young, I don't, really, truly." - -"Now you, child, you," said Madam, "don't you run down your aunts and -your uncles. They are all young and kittenish." - -"They are not Mary, and you know it perfectly well," said The Desmond. -"The child is right; she is full of sense. She's exactly like my -Kathleen, God bless her." - -The fuss which was made over the wardrobe of little Margot could -scarcely be excelled. There was no such thing as a modern bathroom at -Desmondstown, but a great tub, which was used for washing clothes, was -hoisted into the room by two stalwart women. Then it was made the exact -right heat, and Madam and her three daughters--for nothing would keep -these old young ladies a minute longer out of the room--superintended -the washing and dressing of little Margot. - -Eileen was the quietest of the three sisters. She was also the -prettiest and the youngest. She had been out at what was called a -barn-dance on the previous evening and this was her first proper view -of the little arrival. Eileen, when she was really young, must have -been very pretty. She had the deep, dark blue eyes of her countrywomen, -and the soft dark hair which curled naturally all over her head. Unlike -her sisters, she was not obliged to have recourse to curl papers and -little Margot looked at her with her soft, dark brown eyes full of -admiration. - -Her own dress was very plain, though neat, and Eileen chose out of the -child's belongings a simple white dress which she was to wear with a -faded green sash that belonged to Eileen herself. - -"You must wear it to-day, push-keen," she said, "as a welcome to old -Ireland. Isn't it the country of the green, Madam?" - -"Yes, to be sure," replied the old grandmother, "and you might go out -and pick a bunch of shamrocks and fasten it in the front of her dress, -Norah." - -Norah gambolled like a veritable kitten downstairs. She returned -presently with a great bunch of shamrocks, which was carefully pinned -into Margot's white frock. - -"Are ye rested now, pretty dear?" asked Norah. - -"Yes, to be sure I am, Aunt Norah, and I feel so--so _fat_." - -"Poor lamb," cried Madam, "she hasn't been half fed where she was." - -"Yes, but I have," cried Margot. "Uncle Jacko fed me fine and so did -Hannah. It was a wicked woman who interfered." - -"A wicked woman, lawk a mercy!" cried Bridget. "What in the world had a -wicked woman to do with you, pixie?" - -"I'm not allowed to mention her name," said little Margot. "Don't ask -me any more questions, for I've taken an oath and I won't break it. I'd -like to go straight to grand-dad--that's what I'd like." - -"You can't just now, pretty dear," said Madam, "he always sleeps at -this hour, but he'll be up and about by mid-day dinner." - -"You'd best come and play horses with us on the lawn," said Bridget and -Norah, simultaneously. - -"No, I don't want to. You'll have that awful old man there." - -"Is it Mr. Flannigan you mean?" asked Bridget. "Why he's little better -than a chick newly hatched--like the rest of us for that matter," she -continued. - -"Are you all just newly hatched?" asked Margot, looking with great -curiosity at the figures of her old young aunts. - -"To be sure, you've about said it," exclaimed Norah. - -"Well, I'm a great deal older than you," said Margot, "so I'll let -you play with the newly hatched chicken and I'll go and see Phinias -Maloney." - -"For the Lord's sake what does the child mean now?" exclaimed Madam, a -little indignant colour flooding her cheeks. - -"I mean what I say," replied Margot. "He's a dear old man--he's not a -gentleman, but I like him all the better on account of that, for he's -got a gentleman's heart inside his skin. I'll go and see him now while -grand-dad is asleep--that is, if you don't mind, Madam." - -"We'll all go, if it comes to that," said Norah. "Think of you picking -up with Phinias Maloney, the roughest old farmer in the county." - -"But I don't want to go with you, I want to go alone," said Margot. "He -and I are great friends, and I slept with my head on his shoulder all -the way into Kerry. What are you laughing at? Why are you looking at me -as you are doing?" - -"I'm fit to let out a screech," said Norah. "To think of one of the -Desmonds falling asleep with her head on the shoulder of Phinias -Maloney. It's enough to make a cat laugh, let alone a human being." - -"Then, please, Aunt Norah, laugh as much as you like while I am away," -said Margot. "I must be back in time to sit with my grand-dad. I've a -great deal to say to him and the time is short." - -"It's Sunday; you oughtn't to be thinking of your pleasures," said -Eileen, who had a more refined voice than her sisters. "Mother, she -can't go to see Phinias to-day, she really can't. Put on your pretty -little white hat, pixie, and we'll take you to church." - -Margot was of course accustomed to going to church on Sunday and -after a moment's hesitation, during which her little face looked very -downcast, she agreed to Eileen's suggestion. - -"I'll go," she said, "on a condition--it's all my own." - -"And what's that?" asked Eileen. - -"It's that you walk on one side of me, and my young uncle Fergus on the -other; then I'll know where I am, for you talk sense." - -Norah tried in vain to be offended, but as this was absolutely -impossible to her nature and as Bridget was equally the soul of good -humour, the little party started for the small village church a few -minutes later, Margot looking very neat and even distinguished between -her old young aunt and her old young uncle. - -She sat very still during service and kept her soft black eyes fixed -on Mr. Flannigan. Was it possible that he was the same person who -had played horses with her aunts on the previous day? He read the -service with a good deal of force and realism, and preached a sermon -which was so full of Irish stories that Norah and Bridget kept their -handkerchiefs pressed against their mouths to keep themselves from -screaming with laughter. - -All went apparently well until the service came to an end, but then the -curate threw off his church manners and devoted himself to Miss Norah -and Miss Bridget. He was invited back to dinner by both these young -ladies and eagerly accepted the invitation. - -"So this is the pixie," he said, his eyes fixed on Margot. - -"No, it isn't," said Margot, "but you are the newly hatched chick." - -Mr. Flannigan felt his red face turning redder than usual. - -"Whatever do you mean?" he replied. - -Just then they got inside the grounds. - -"Thank Heaven for all its mercies," said Norah. "I can let out a good -screech now, and no one will be any the wiser. I said, Sam Flannigan, -that you were a newly-hatched chicken, when she was taunting me about -your age, man. Oh, isn't it fun? I never enjoyed myself so much in my -life." - -"Nor did I, for that matter," cried Bridget. "It's a pity it is Sunday, -for we can't play horses." - -"Do let's walk a little faster, Uncle Fergus," said Margot turning to -her uncle. - -His grave face looked at her searchingly, then he said in a quiet tone, - -"The avenue is a bit too long for a wee thing like you. See, I'm going -to stoop. Put your arms round my neck, _so_. Now, then, hold tight. I -have you on my shoulder as firm as can be." - -"Oh, thank you, thank you," said Margot. "I do like you, Uncle Fergus, -and I like Eileen." - -"But why don't you like the others? They are harmless enough, poor bit -things." - -"Yes, but they were not hatched yesterday," said Margot. "That I do -know and I won't play horses with that horrid Mr. Flannigan!" - -"Malachi is fit to tear his hair," exclaimed Fergus. "He has just sent -off a stud of horses to Dublin for sale, so there isn't one he can -offer ye to ride." - -"I like _you_ very much as a horse, Uncle Fergus," said Margot. - -"Do ye now? Well, that's all right." - -"Did you love my mother, Uncle Fergus?" - -"To be sure, but we don't talk of her." - -"Why not, why ever not?" - -"Because it hurts the old man; we have to be very careful about the old -man. You listen, child, mavourneen. He never got over her marrying a -Frenchy." - -"But my father had a title, he was Comte St. Juste." - -"As if that mattered," said Fergus, in a tone of violent contempt. "A -title indeed, the Lord preserve us! The Desmonds don't want any title -greater than their own." - -"Is it very high up, Uncle Fergus?" - -"High up? The stars couldn't reach it. There isn't a royal Duke in -England we'd change with." - -"Isn't there? I didn't know," said Margot. She spoke in a very soft, -interested voice. "And some day you'll have it," she said. - -"Yes; but for the Lord's sake don't mention the awful time when the old -man is took from us." - -"Oh, Uncle Fergus, I _do_ love you," said Margot and she bent down and -kissed him on his brow. - - -It was two or three days later that The Desmond and his son, Fergus, -had a long and important conversation behind locked doors. "I'm willing -to do my share," said Fergus Desmond. - -"I knew you were, my boy. You have never disappointed me yet." - -"And I won't begin now, father," said the son. - -"We can't let her go," said The Desmond, "that's the thing." - -"I see your heart is set on her," remarked Fergus. - -"Set on her! It is fastened on her like a vise. I don't know myself -since she came to the place. She's her blessed mother back again. Who -is that man who has the charge of her, Fergus? Is he her uncle at all, -at all?" - -"She seems very fond of him," said Fergus, "but I don't see how he can -be her uncle. He has taken very good care of her all these years, and -never asked us for so much as a penny." - -"I tell you what it is, Fergus," said The Desmond. "You must go across -the water and see the man and put it straight to him that we can't give -her up." - -"I don't see how I can exactly do that, father," said Fergus; "he's had -her since she was a babe and maybe she is as much to him as she is to -us." - -"Fergus, you talk folly. Is The Desmond's heart to be broken because of -a common sort of chap like John Mansfield?" - -"We must act fair," said Fergus, "and what's more, if we adopt her, -we must adopt her properly. She must be schooled. She must be treated -like the lady she is. We don't want any more Norahs and Bridgets in the -house." - -"No, no; of course not, of course not," said The Desmond. - -"She must be taught," said Fergus Desmond, "and the teaching will cost -money, a sight of money. I know a lady who'd do it," he continued. -"Miss Drusilla McNab--she has got fine learning entirely, foreign -languages and all else, and she can play the piano and sing to make -your heart burst. I might manage to settle it with her if we paid her -properly, but we can't have one of the Desmonds disgracing herself and -us by eating the bread of charity." - -"How old is Drusilla McNab?" asked The Desmond. - -"She's thirty-five, father, and she lives at Rockingham, and Malachi -could drive the kiddie over there each morning and fetch her back in -the evening. But we couldn't offer Miss Drusilla less than £20 a year. -We couldn't in all decency." - -"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed The Desmond. "Twenty pounds, when we have -scarcely got so many pence. Can't you and I teach the bit thing, -Fergus?" - -"No, we can't," said Fergus. "She must be taught properly and like -a real, out-and-out lady. Miss McNab was educated in Paris and the -pushkeen is going to be a wonderful beauty. She must be taught -according to her station. She'll make a fine match some day." - -"I want her to stay with me," said The Desmond. "I don't wish for any -of those fine matches for the pretty dear." - -"Well, it will come, father; for she is the handsomest little girl I -ever looked at." - -"And why not," said old Desmond, his eyes flashing a sort of blue fire. -"Isn't she her mother's child?" - -"Yes, but she is better-looking than Kathleen. Don't fret, old man, -accept the fact. She has got a look of our Kathleen, but she must -take after her father, too. She doesn't get those eyes only from our -Kathleen. Why, they look as though you could never reach to the back of -them." - -"To be sure," said The Desmond. "Well, I can't part with her; that's -plain. I'm alive all over again, and quite young with the thought of -having her in the house." - -"It'll take money to settle this matter, father," said Fergus. "If -this John Mansfield is her real uncle, he mayn't want to give her up, -and he can't be forced to give her up. It strikes me we'll have to pay -him. Money settles most difficulties. Now my notion is this. You have -turned against the Comte St. Juste, although you never clapped eyes -on him. When our Kathleen took him for better or worse, you said you -wouldn't see him or write to him or have anything to do with him. Then -our girleen died after giving birth to the little one and then the poor -Comte died, also, and you never breathed the name, never once, of the -little colleen. But she came to you of her own accord and you have lost -your heart to her." - -"Lost my heart! I tell you, Fergus, my man, I'm mad about her." - -"Well, then, we must get some one in to settle this question. I'll -go by this very night's mail to John Mansfield and then, it strikes -me--hold yourself in now, father, don't burst out. It strikes me I -might go on to those French people and perhaps they'd help their son's -child. You must keep her here by hook or by crook until I get back. -I'll get the address of the French people from John Mansfield." - -"But we don't even know Mansfield's address," muttered The Desmond. - -"Oh, I see my way to that," said Fergus. "Will you put the matter into -my hands, father, and I'll do my level best. There's that nice little -farm of Cromartie's. We can mortgage that by-and-bye to get the little -bit dear a dowry, but that's for the future. I'd do anything on earth -to please you, dad, and Miss Drusilla McNab can turn the wee colleen -into a fine lady. I'm thinking that between John Mansfield and those -French folks I'll manage something. Can you give me that old gold -watch, father, and a couple of pound notes just to take me to Dublin? -That's all the money I'll ask for the present." - -The interview ended by The Desmond putting two very crumpled and as a -matter of fact very dirty one pound notes into Fergus' hand. He then -gave him the old gold repeater and told him to be as quick a boy about -his business as ever he could. - -Fergus said as he was leaving the room, "Now, look you here, old man, -this is a scheme between you and me and neither Madam herself nor the -three girls, nor the boys, Bruce and Malachi, are to know anything -whatsoever about it. If it can be done, it will be done, and I'm the -boy to do it." - -"Whist, lad," said his father, "where are you off to now?" - -"You leave it to me, father, I must manage in my own way." - -The Desmond sank back into his chair, his dark eyes deep and lustrous -and a smile playing round his lips. - -If only Fergus could succeed, if only he might keep the little -mavourneen. He closed his eyes and slowly two tears fell over his -wrinkled cheeks. He was thinking of a possible joy and of a past grief, -but Fergus was the boy--there wasn't his like in the county. - -Meanwhile Fergus made his way out by the backyard, crossed a -tumbled-down stile without anyone noticing him and made his way in a -bee line to the farm which was rented by Phinias Maloney. - -Phinias was one of his father's best tenants and accordingly was -entitled to a certain degree of respect. He never bothered about -repairs either, and although the farm was going to ruin, he paid his -rent each quarter-day like a man, and never asked for improvements. - -"What did a little drop of wather matter," he said to "Herself," when -the rain poured in through the badly thatched roof, "and whyever should -they be botherin' theirselves about filling up gaps and such like. -Wasn't The Desmond as bad off as himself and was _he_ goin' to ruin The -Desmond, not he! The gaps were mighty convanient for the young chickens -and young ducklings to run in and out of the house and to take shelter -when it rained hard on the roof of the old barn." - -Yes, the farm was good enough for Phinias, if Desmondstown was good -enough for The Desmond, and "Herself" must hold her chatter for he -wasn't going to ask for what couldn't be done. - -Thus the days went by and the weeks went by and Phinias was perfectly -happy in the broken-down farm, but his delight knew no bounds when on a -certain morning a little figure stepped lightly across the badly-kept -yard, which was full of holes and numerous little pools of water in -which young ducklings disported themselves. - -"Why, if it isn't the little missie herself," cried Phinias. He strode -out to meet Margot, who put her little cool hand into his. - -"Oh, oh, Mr. Phinias Maloney, I couldn't get away a day sooner. I love -The Desmond like mad and Madam and Fergus, but I don't care for the -young old girls--only Aunt Eileen isn't so bad as the other two. They -said they was only hatched about yesterday. When was you hatched, Mr. -Phinias Maloney? You look miles younger than they do." - -"Ah, whist, my little _acushla machree_" said the farmer, "kape it up -to thim that they are young and you'll be as happy as the day is long." - -"But I don't want to. I like Aunt Eileen tolerable, and I love Uncle -Fergus and I dote on my grand-dad and Madam. Oh, I say, I had to run -away to come to you, Phinias, and there is Uncle Fergus coming in at -the gate." - -"Do you want to hide from him, pretty one?" said Phinias. - -"Is it I that would hide?" said little Margot. "That's not me. Hullo, -Uncle Fergus. I ran away this morning, all my lonesome, to have a talk -with dear Phinias." - -Fergus Desmond looked decidedly annoyed, but the frown quickly swept -from his brow. - -"Phinias," he said, turning to the man, "I want to have a few words in -private with you. Take little missie in and introduce her to 'Herself' -and the youngest baby." - -"Oh, a baby!" cried Margot. "When--_when_ was it hatched? Does it look -as old as young Aunt Norah?" - -"Whist, whist, missie darlint, come this way," said Phinias. - -He took the little hand and led the child into the tumble-down kitchen. - -"No remarks," he said, "_if_ you please," dropping his voice to a -whisper and introducing the little girl to "Herself," a handsome -blue-eyed young woman of the true Kerry type of beauty. "The place is a -bit shook up, I'm not goin' for to deny it; but neither will I let The -Desmond be bothered puttin' it right. Now there's a straight tip for -you, little missie. Annie, mavourneen, here's a swate little lady from -Desmondstown, who I brought across the say all the way from England. -She has come to pay us a call, kape her with yourself, Annie. I'll be -back again in a twinklin'." - -"When was the last baby hatched?" said Margot. - -"Bless your heart, little missie," said Mrs. Maloney, "we don't talk of -childer as hatched. He's two months old. I've called him Phinias after -his dadda." - -"Oh, oh, _let_ me hold him," said little Margot, "oh, oh, I'm so glad -he wasn't hatched. My aunties are hatched about every second day and it -makes them so terrible young, and so, so _queer_. Isn't he a perfect -darling? May I kiss him, Mrs. Phinias--'cause I'm _so_ fond of your -husband." - -"Bless you, pretty one, to be sure you may." - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -"I'LL EXPLAIN TO YOURSELF." - - -While little Margot and "Herself" were engrossed over the -two-months-old baby and Margot was expressing her intense delight that -it was _really_ a very young baby--"_proper_ young," she said, raising -her deep, dark eyes to the young mother's face--Fergus Desmond was -giving way to a certain amount of anger. He was a good fellow, one of -the best in Ireland, but he was eaten up with an Irishman's pride and -he did not want his little niece to be "hail-fellow-well-met" even with -so good a man as Phinias Maloney. - -A slight consideration, however, caused him to see the absurdity of -these feelings. He had no cause to abuse poor Phinias, who was one of -his own father's best tenants. The frown, therefore, smoothed away from -his brow and he walked beside Phinias into one of the meadows at the -back of the tumble-down farm. - -"Ye may wonder that missie comes to see me, sir," exclaimed Phinias, -who had been quite quick enough to discern the frown of displeasure -on the young masther's brow. "Why, thin, I'll explain to yourself," -he continued. "She's a little miss that ain't to be seen often, and -she was put into my charge on board the boat. Why to be sure I didn't -recognise John Mansfield at the first go-off, but when I did, I -couldn't but accept the duty put on me. She's a dear little miss and -wasn't no throuble at all even to sphake about, only she was fair mad -to get to Desmondstown." - -"Now, listen, Phinias, I want to speak to you," said Fergus. "Time is -short and there is a great deal to be done. I want you to tell me, my -good fellow, all that you know of John Mansfield." - -"All that I know, Mr. Desmond? I know nought but what's good about the -best gintleman that ever walked. It isn't to say that he's middlin' -good, but he's high up among the saints, your honour. He's a priest of -the Holy Church. Nobody must say a word against John Mansfield 'fore -me, yer beautiful honour." - -"I don't want to say a word against the man," said Fergus. "You just -told me that he put a little child into your care." - -"Yes, he did, and as dacent and as purty a colleen as could be found in -the breadth of the British Isles." - -"I know all about her," said Fergus. "The child is a dear child. She -is my niece and granddaughter to The Desmond, but what I want to find -out is this--how she comes to be niece also to John Mansfield." - -"Sure then, did ye never hear of Farmer Mansfield of these parts?" - -"What," said Fergus, stepping back a pace and a frown coming over his -handsome features. "You don't mean to insinuate that my niece is a -relation of that old scoundrel?" - -"The man took to dhrink and dhrink finished him entirely," said -Phinias, "but his son John was always a good boy, always and -forever--good of the good and best of the best, and how could he -possibly be responsible for the sins of his fathers? He saved money and -had himself eddicated--eh, fine; fine. He's a mighty scholard is John -Mansfield and has the gentlest and truest heart in the world and he -took missie when she was a babby and reared her up fine and she calls -him her uncle." - -"Oh, well, he's not her uncle," said Fergus. - -"Don't be so sure of that, Mr. Desmond, your honour. He's her uncle -near as much as you are." - -"What do you mean?" said Desmond. - -"I'll tell ye, sir, if ye'll give me time to get me breath. Well, it -was like this. You may remember how beautiful, lovely Miss Kathleen -went to London and married a Frenchy, but nobody ever said a word -about Miss Priscilla." - -Fergus found himself starting. - -"Miss Priscilla got tired of the life at Desmondstown and she come to -me one evening late, as sure as I'm standing here, and she says, says -she, 'I'm going to London after Kathleen, and if Kathleen has married, -why shouldn't I?' Eh, to be sure I did what I could to stop her, but -she would have her way. She wrote to The Desmond and tell't him that -she had married and she didn't want no bones made about it, and she -never mentioned the name of her husband, honest man. I've heard tell -that she's turned out a sharp, sour woman, but she's married to John -Mansfield--the best man that ever walked. So he's uncle by marriage to -little missie. It's all a fact, yer honour, ye can't help it. Ye must -swallow your pride, and all I can say is this, that John Mansfield -deserved a better lot." - -"Well, tell me this," said Fergus after a time. "I never cared for -Priscilla--we none of us did--she was the eldest of the whole house, -even older than my sister Norah, and tried to rule us with a rod of -iron. If it hadn't been for my father, The Desmond, she would have made -the place unbearable. So she took the child when her parents died?" - -"She did so," replied Phinias. "It was the only good thing she done as -far as I hear tell on." - -"Listen to me, Phinias," said Fergus, "I want your help in this matter." - -"To be sure, to be sartin sure, yer honour." - -"Well, it's like this," said Fergus. "Don't you let it out to your wife -or your neighbours. Keep it close within your breast." - -"I will that, yer honour. I am wonderful at kapin' a sacret." - -"Well, this is the state of things," said Fergus. "My father is an old -man and full of years, and Madam, bless her heart, is not too young, -and they've both taken a fancy to the little push-keen. We want to keep -her, Phinias." - -"Oh, Lord, sir; yer honour I mane, whatever for?" - -"For the sake of my father," said Fergus. "He's gone fair mad over the -child, and if John Mansfield has got a grain of human nature in him, he -won't part the child from her own true grandfather. I'm going to see -him to-night, but not a word is to be mentioned to little miss, and I -want you to give me his address, Phinias Maloney." - -"Well, to be sure, I can do that fine," said Phinias. "Didn't he give -me his kyard when he put the bit colleen into my care, and didn't -he look nigh to weepin'. He's an elegant man, yer honour, and he -loves the little colleen like anythin'. There's nothin' on earth he -wouldn't do for the pretty dear, but I can see that he's mortal afraid -of 'herself'--that's Miss Priscilla that was. His address is Handley -Vicarage, Balderstown, near Earlminster. You won't see much of the -old farmer in the Rev. John Mansfield, yer honour. To look at, he's a -gintleman as good as yourself and with 'the spiritual eye.'" - -"Whatever do you mean by that, Phinias?" - -"Ah, thin," exclaimed Phinias, "it's given but to a rare few, and they -lives--well, somewhere above the stars I'm thinking--close to the -golden gates, by the same token. There's no difference between 'The's' -and Priests and Marquises and Counts where _he_ has fixed his gaze, yer -honour. He's a howly man, that's what he be and 'the spiritual eye' in -him is downright wonderful." - -"Well, thank ye, Phinias," said Fergus, after a pause. "I don't quite -understand your full meaning, but I want the wee push-keen for my -father, and if I can get her I will. How, then, will you call her out -to me, for she may as well ride home on my shoulder?" - -"Ah to be sure, the pretty bit dear," said the farmer. - -He entered his untidy kitchen somewhat sorrowfully. He was thinking of -John Mansfield. He did not see--being a very upright man himself--why -even The Desmond should be considered, when he had taken no notice at -all of the little 'herself' all these long, long years, and he thought -his honour, Mr. Fergus, somewhat cruel to drag the child from his own -friend. - -Fergus, however, having got the information he required did not give -Phinias Maloney a further thought. - -Margot, in the highest spirits, rode back to Desmondstown on her -uncle's shoulder. She had by this time become great friends with Aunt -Eileen and she endured the passionate caresses of old young Aunt Norah -and old young Aunt Bridget. She chattered a good deal as they all ate -their lunch together about the baby who was real--real young. - -Aunt Norah let out one of her whoops and then one of her screeches, but -The Desmond was too much absorbed with his plan to take much notice of -her. On that same evening Fergus started for Rosslare _en route_ for -Fishguard. He managed to find time to sell the old gold repeater and -had in consequence sufficient money in his pocket for his immediate -wants. - -Fergus Desmond did not much mind his shabby attire, nor his -unwieldy-looking boots, nor his altogether Irish appearance. He had -a goal in view and that goal he was determined to carry through if it -cost him half his life. The Desmond was mad about little Margot and The -Desmond must be satisfied. - -All in good time he arrived at Handley Vicarage. He enquired at once -for the Rev. John Mansfield. Hannah opened the door for him and stared -at him a good bit. It seemed as though Hannah, who was a most astute -woman, was tracing out a likeness between Fergus and somebody else. Who -could the somebody else be? Surely--surely not the bit girlie. Hannah -was devoted to Margot and had bitterly regretted her visit to Ireland, -but she was in all the throes of spring cleaning at the present moment, -and altogether it was an awkward time for Fergus Desmond to come. - -"My master's out at the present moment," she said, "but if you'll tell -me your name, sir, I'll let him know if you'd like to call again." - -"I'll wait here for him, thanks," said Fergus, "and I'd rather not give -my name." - -"He's a burglar like as not," thought Hannah, but there was something -so masterful and big and grave about this dark-eyed man that she could -not by any possibility attempt to oppose him. She accordingly put him -into the study and a few minutes later John Mansfield entered the room. -John Mansfield was thought a tall man by his English parishioners, but -as he crossed the room to welcome the stranger, who was totally and -completely a stranger to him, he looked small by comparison with Fergus -Desmond. - -Fergus, however, was immediately fired by that curious admiration -for the man himself, which all those who knew him felt. There was, -according to Phinias, "the spiritual eye" very distinctly visible in -John Mansfield. - -"I must introduce myself," said Fergus. "I am an Irishman." - -"Ah, to be sure, sit down, won't ye?" said John Mansfield. His heart -gave a thump in his breast. Ireland for him at that moment only meant -Desmondstown, where his little Margot, his little treasure, was staying. - -"And my name," continued Fergus, dropping into a chair, "is Fergus -Desmond." - -"Not--not of Desmondstown!" gasped John Mansfield. "My God, speak the -truth at once, lad--not of Desmondstown?" - -"Yes, of Desmondstown, where else?" - -"Then you have brought bad news--something has gone wrong with my--my -little darling." - -"No, sir, nothing has gone wrong. Ease your mind, once and for all. -The child has won the love of everyone in the house, and The Desmond -and Madam they want to keep her. That's what I've come about, Mr. -Mansfield. For the matter of that, you are my brother-in-law, sir. You -have married my sister Priscilla." - -"I have so," said Mansfield, "and she's a good woman." - -"She's not at home now, is she?" asked Fergus. - -"No, thank the--I mean she won't be back for over a week, Mr. Desmond." - -"You had best call me Fergus, John," said the other man. - -"If you like it, I will, but it don't seem fair. I never set myself up -to be one of your class." - -"Well, never mind that, you are married to my eldest sister and you are -a good man; I can see that by your face." - -"I try my best, Mr. Fergus, but we are none of us good. There's a heavy -load of sin on us all, and I'm no better than my neighbours." - -"You ask Phinias Maloney and he'll tell you a very different story," -said Fergus, a grim smile passing over his stern features. - -"Ah, Phinias," said John Mansfield. "He always had the heart of the -matter in him. But tell me again what you have come about, Mr. Fergus. -You don't want to take my girleen from me." - -"That's what I do want. Tell me truthfully, does her aunt love the -child?" - -"I can't say that she does," replied John Mansfield, "but discipline is -good for us all." - -"Well now, listen to me, John Mansfield. The Desmond is getting old and -when an old man sets his heart on a thing, it's bad--it's terribly bad -to upset him. Let him have all his wishes until the breath leaves his -body." - -"Sir, why didn't The Desmond write about little Margot before now?" - -"He didn't think of her and that's the truth," said Fergus. - -"But I _did_ think of her," said John Mansfield. "She's the light of -my heart--the joy of my life. Haven't I trained her and loved her and -taught her since her father's death when she was barely two years of -age? I had hard work to bring Priscilla round to my keeping her at all, -but now--now she's my sunshine and joy and you want to take her from -me. Don't you think you're a cruel man, Mr. Desmond?" - -"No I don't; I'm thinking that the old man won't live long. I expect it -is a bit of a sacrifice to you, John Mansfield, but you might think of -the old who have so few days before them. And the little one shall have -every care and be well taught and even have a dowry provided for her. -I am sure your wife would give her consent, and she's _her_ niece--not -yours--John Mansfield." - -"That's true; Priscilla wouldn't mind," said Mansfield. "She'd be glad -to get rid of her." - -"Then, man, whyever do you hesitate? You are only her uncle by -marriage. You can't keep her away from her grandfather if he wants her." - -John Mansfield rose from his seat and walked to the window. He stood -there for some time, looking out with a very steady and fixed gaze. At -the end of that time the cloud which had covered his brow disappeared. -Then he went up to Desmond and laid his delicate and refined hand on -the other man's shoulder. - -"I won't say any longer that you are doing a cruel thing," he said, -"but if it's a case of adoption, I must get Priscilla's leave, and I -must go to the present Comte St. Juste and see what he says about his -son's child being adopted by the Desmonds. If it's done it must be done -properly." - -"I'm willing; I'm quite willing," said Fergus. "Where does the Comte -St. Juste live?" - -"At a place called Arles in France. There's the old château still -standing and I'm told they are terribly poor, but the child belongs to -them as much as to you. I hear they are greedy, too; they may want a -hit of money to give her up." - -"John Mansfield," said Fergus, "if you lend me fifty pounds you and I -might go together to see the Comte St. Juste and I'll pay it back to -you as sure as I am a Desmond of Desmondstown when I return home again. -Let us start at once, my good sir. You'll help me to get the little one -for my father." - -"I got my quarter's income yesterday," said John Mansfield. "I must -keep some of it to live on, but I can let you have thirty pounds. I -didn't know when I sent my little treasure to Desmondstown that it -would come to this. You must do with thirty pounds, Fergus Desmond, I -can't spare any more." - -"I'll do with thirty pounds," said Desmond. - -"Very well; we'll start for London to-night. This is the room where she -and I were so happy together. Here is the little shelf where she kept -her Latin and Greek books." - -"My good gracious, you didn't teach her the dead languages?" said -Fergus. - -"I did, for certain. She was the aptest little pupil you could find in -your march through life." - -"I'll have her taught fine," said Fergus, "but you are a good--very -good man, Mansfield." - -"Don't say that again," replied Mansfield. "The heart knoweth its own -wickedness and its own sorrows. I can't explain what I feel and if I -could, I wouldn't. I'll be ready to accompany you this very evening, -Mr. Desmond." - -"Fergus Desmond, please," said the future heir to The Desmond. - -Mansfield left the room. Fergus looked round the shabby little -study. He took up the Latin and Greek books and a sense of amazement -possessed him. If it had not been for his old father he would not have -gone on with this thing. He felt he had never seen a man like John -Mansfield before. Fergus thought a good deal of rank and old family, -but Mansfield was above all that kind of thing. He was higher up. He -had, in fact, reached the soul heights, where earthly rank counts for -nothing. - -By-and-bye he came back, the colour in his cheeks and a sparkle in his -eyes. - -"I have news for you, Fergus," he said, "sudden, unexpected. Priscilla -has come home." - -"My goodness," said Fergus, "we all vowed that we would never speak to -her again." - -"Because she married me?" said Mansfield, with a sort of angelic smile. - -"Yes, we were fools. I should like to see my sister, and I tell you -honestly, Mansfield, that I think she has got the best of the bargain." - -"But there is one thing I must add," continued Mansfield. "I cannot go -with you to France to-night. I cannot desert my wife on her unexpected -return." - -There was a loud, harsh voice heard in the hall. - -"Maggie, Maggie, where are you, Marguerite?" - -Mansfield hurriedly left the study; his firm, refined face assumed -a somewhat slight and delicate flush; he drew himself up to his -slender height, a half-suppressed sigh rose to his lips and then he -disappeared. Fergus Desmond heard him murmur to himself, - -"She's a good woman, yes, she's a good woman, and I--I have deceived -her," but whether Mrs. Mansfield was good or bad, nothing could exceed -her wild rage and anger when she encountered her husband in the little -narrow hall and when he told her, which he did firmly and gently, that -he had sent little Margot to visit her relations in Ireland. - -"I didn't act fair by you, Priscilla," he said, "and I'm more than -willing to own it, but the child pined to see her own people, and I--I, -yes, I let her go." - -"The little brat," said Mrs. Mansfield, "and pray what money did you -give her? She couldn't cross the briny with nothing in her pocket." - -"She didn't have a penny of yours, Priscilla; but wait, whist, I have -something to say...." - -Whatever that something may have been, it was interrupted in a most -startling and unpleasant manner, for Fergus Desmond also opened the -door of the little study and stood in the hall. He was exactly three -years younger than Priscilla, and Priscilla could not mistake him -for a moment. She disliked all her family, but perhaps she disliked -Fergus the most, for Fergus would never give in to her or submit to her -scoldings, and even the lively Norah and the old young Bridget found -their brother a rock of defense on the occasions when Priscilla rounded -on them. - -"I've come, Prissy," he said, not offering to kiss her or even to take -her hand. "I see you are exactly the same as ever. I pity from the -bottom of my heart the good man you have made your husband." - -"You pity the son of a farmer for having married a Desmond of -Desmondstown," almost hissed the good lady. - -"I pity the man you have married--I care nothing about his ancestry. -He's got a good bit of property I'm thinking in a _more enduring -country than this_. But now, about the child. I came over on purpose to -speak to you and John about her. My father, The Desmond, wants to keep -her and from what I can see of you, Prissy, you'll be glad to be rid -of her." - -Mrs. Mansfield was at first so much startled at seeing her brother that -she could find no words to reply, but now they came in what in Ireland -might be called not only a flow but a rapid torrent. - -"Ah, to be sure," she said, "that's a nice thing to come and say and -do. I took the child when she was too small for anyone else to think -about her. I took her and cared for her and nursed her and trained her -and sat up with her at night when she had the whooping-cough and the -measles, and now that she is a strong colleen you want to take her from -me. All I can tell you is this, Fergus, you don't get her, so there! -She can be of use to me now," repeated Mrs. Mansfield, "and I won't -give her up. That's my answer. You can go, Fergus. There is nothing -more to be said." - -"But there is something more to be said, good wife," said John -Mansfield. "I have given in--I, who love the little creature as though -she were my own." - -"Oh, do stop your foolery, John," said Mrs. Mansfield. "Who cares -whether you love her or not? It's the plague of my life the way you go -on about her." - -"I can't help loving her, dear, no more than you can help--help hating -her." - -"Who said I hated her? That's a nice thing to repeat to my brother." - -"Well, then, give her up, Priscilla." - -"I won't, unless I'm paid," said Priscilla. "She's a perfect torment of -a child and I never did think when I went away to visit my sick friend -that I should be treated in so mean and so deceitful a manner. I won't -give her up unless I'm paid," screamed Priscilla. "How much are you -prepared to offer me for her, Fergus?" - -"I'll give you fifteen pounds, Priscilla. I'll send it to you from -Desmondstown, but first of all this good fellow and I must go and see -the child's French relations." - -"Oh you must, indeed, must you? A fine fuss you are making--a fine hue -and cry about a beggar's brat, whom nobody took any notice of at all -until the last week or so." - -"Come along now, ma'am, and sup up your tea," said Hannah, who just -then added her own goodly proportions to the group in the hall. "I -have a beautiful egg boiled as light as anything for you and new laid -as though it had dropped out of the nest, and a little bit of curled -up bacon. Master, you take the gentleman into the study and I'll see -after Mrs. Mansfield." - -Now if there was one person in the world whom Mrs. Mansfield both -respected and _feared_ it was her old-fashioned servant, Hannah. Hannah -had lived with her ever since her marriage, solely and entirely first -on account of Mr. Mansfield, and then because of the sweet brown-eyed -baby. She hated the woman for herself, but she would have done more -than put up with her for the sake of that good man, John Mansfield, -and for the sake of the bit girleen. She was a Yorkshire woman, firm -and determined. She kept the house very clean, she allowed no waste -anywhere and in some extraordinary way she managed to rule Priscilla -Desmond that was. She ruled her by being outspoken and by letting this -Irishwoman see what she really was. - -"Here's your supper, ma'am," she said. "You'd better sit down -quiet-like and eat it." - -"Hannah, I've been treated shameful--shameful." - -Hannah put her arms akimbo and stared fixedly at her mistress. - -"I can't see for the life of me where the 'shameful' comes in," she -said, "and whatever made ye come back a week or more before ye were -wanted. Wasn't the master and me in the thick of housecleaning when you -come bally-ragging us?" - -"I couldn't help it, Hannah. My friend got a bad attack of pleurisy, -and you know I can never stand _serious_ illness--it's more than I've -nerve for." - -"Oh you are not lacking in nerve, ma'am. When you told all those -lies about sitting up with the child that time she had measles and -whooping-cough. It wasn't _you_ that sat up, bless your heart, it was -the master and me. There's no sense in what I calls _useless_ lies, -and them was useless. The master knew it, and he give one of those -quick little sighs of his that cut me to the very bone, back behint the -heart, and, what's more, that fine gentleman from Ireland knew it--I -saw it in his face. You are perjuring yourself more every day, Mrs. -Mansfield, and you'd best step easy and go more cautious if you want -ever to get to Heaven. There, now, you are crying--that'll do you good. -This tea is prime. I bought it at Dawson's out of my own wages this -morning, and this little curly crisp bit of bacon with the new-laid egg -will hearten you up. Eat and drink, ma'am, and be decent to your good -husband and, for the Lord's sake, let the child go where she will be -loved. There is no one loves her in this house but the master and me. -There, to be sure, haven't I got in a girl who is trying to _smooth_ -her work? I must get at her to see that she _bottoms_ it properly. Take -your tea and eat your egg and think on your sins. That's all I have got -to say to _you_." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -M. LE COMTE. - - -Hannah had certainly managed to say a good deal in this short but -pungent lecture, and the immediate consequence was that Mrs. Mansfield -was comparatively reasonable when her husband and Fergus saw her next. -She confessed that children were a nuisance and if Fergus gave her -twenty pounds she wouldn't mind parting with the child. - -"It can't he done," said Mansfield firmly. - -"Whatever do you mean by that, John Mansfield?" - -"Exactly what I say, dear love. The little one has been the joy and -blessing of my life. I can never express to this good brother of yours -what little Margot has been to me and if I give her up at all, I give -her up from a sense of duty, but I won't allow you to receive money for -her." - -"And right you are, sir, right you are," said Hannah, who came into the -room at that moment. "The missus wouldn't touch a brass farthing for -the kiddy when she gets over the kind of shock of seeing that fine man -her brother. I'll manage her, master dear, you needn't trouble your -head." - -It so happened that Hannah had her way. She did manage Mrs. Mansfield -and, what was more, she got everything in order for her master and -Fergus Desmond to start for their expedition to Arles, not that night -but on the following morning. How neither of these good gentlemen -knew a word of the French tongue, but they did discover by the aid -of atlases, etc., the direction in which Arles was situated and they -started off on their quest for little Margot's French relations at an -early hour the next day. - -They arrived at Arles on the following evening and, after making -enquiries by means of one of Cook's interpreters, they discovered the -Château St. Juste. Arles is a lively and busy place and more than one -person watched the singular pair as they passed down an avenue of -plane-trees and by-and-bye came to some heavy iron gates, which the -said interpreter informed them opened on to the avenue, and eventually -led to the Château St. Juste. The interpreter then felt that he had -done his duty. - -Fergus paid him twenty francs and a sprightly little woman, quite young -and very lively, came out of a small and daintily furnished lodge to -greet them. - -"Ah, but you are Anglais," she said, "it goes without saying. I -will take you down to the château if messieurs so desire. Monsieur -_mon mari_ is ill, but it matters not--he can talk the English--ah, -_charmant_! He has fallen ill of the accursed _grippe_, but I nurse -him well and he will soon be restored. Come, then, my good messieurs, -come for yourselves and see le Comte St. Juste. I am his wife, it -goes without saying. He is old and I am young, that also goes without -saying. Follow me, messieurs, you will be rewarded when you see all -that I have done for the castle. It was in ruins--ah! but I had my -_dot, chers_ messieurs. I made my money by means of the _chapeaux_ -and the _très chic_ garments for the different _fêtes_ which abound -at Arles. Ah, but I made my pile--my pile, and the Comte he worships -me, and I myself am _la Comtesse_. Think you not it was well done, -and think you I am ashamed of how I made my _dot_? Ah, _mais non, -mais non_! The beautiful hats are made for the beautiful youth, the -beautiful robes, _très distinguées très comme il faut_, are also made -for the young and lovely, but see! I get my price, the true price--one -hundred and fifty francs for one little _chapeau_, one thousand francs -for a robe which might be distinguished in any part of Paris. Ah, think -not of it any more. It is over. I am Madame la Comtesse and Monsieur is -le Comte and I put the place--ah, into its bridal dress. See! behold! -Not a weed, not an entanglement--all of the most spotless. Think what -the place was! One raises the eyebrow at the thought, and behold it -now! Monsieur the Comte, he is that eaten up with _joie_ that he can -scarcely contain himself. Ah, messieurs, have I not done well?" - -"You have done very well," said John Mansfield. - -The little French lady turned towards him and gave him a sparkling nod. - -"You come from the cold _Angleterre_?" she enquired. - -"I live in England and I love that country very dearly," said John -Mansfield. - -"Ah, and you, monsieur?" the black eyes fixed themselves on the eyes -which were almost as black as Fergus Desmond's. - -"I come from Ireland," he said. "I have come on a matter of great -importance; I wish to speak to your husband, madame." - -"Ah, _certainement, certainement_. Oh, la! la! you shall have your way. -But Ireland--Ireland, have you not a name, monsieur?" - -"My name is Desmond of Desmondstown," said Fergus in his slow, grave -voice. - -The little madame gave a sort of bounce in the air. - -"Then the day of greatest joy has arrived," she said. "My poor -husband, he frets day and night, oh, but he has no reason. He is not -ravished as he ought to be with all those good things that I have -provided him with. His son, his only son, married! Ah, but it was a -Paul and Virginia affair. He married a young Irish lady of beauty the -most superb. I know it, for she came here and _I_ sold her a _chapeau_ -and a _robe_. Ah, but you are like her, monsieur--you of Ireland, I -mean." - -"I am her brother," said Fergus. - -"Did I not say it was a day of joy," exclaimed the little Comtesse. -"Well, she was beautiful and they loved her all of them, but the -Comte, my good husband, he was harassed much because there was not the -customary _dot_, and he made the young m'sieur Henri, the husband of -the beautiful madame, angry with bitter words and the young m'sieur he -took, yes, he took his wife away. She was like a star for loveliness -and then we heard that she had died, and shortly afterwards we got the -information that the romantic ideas of _mon pauvre mari_ were never to -be fulfilled, for the young Comte died also somewhere in that bitter -_Angleterre_ and we lost sight of the good babe that had been put into -his hands by his young lovely wife before she departed to _le bon -Dieu_. Ah, but those were sad times! This is the house, messieurs, now -we will enter, and I will tell M'sieur le Comte that you have arrived." - -The two men were left staring at each other. The château was in truly -French style, and although it looked perfectly neat and tidy lacked the -air of comfort which John Mansfield's little home possessed, and which -was even to be seen in Desmondstown. - -After a very short interval Madame appeared again on the scene. - -"_Alors, je vais vous présenter à l'instant._ Follow me, I beg. Rest -you here, M'sieur." She pointed to a little lounge in a gaily decorated -drawing-room, "and I will take M'sieur, the Irish gentleman, to see my -husband. I will bring you _l'eau sucrée, tout-de-suite_. Now follow me, -M'sieur from Ireland." - -Fergus Desmond gave his friend a glance of dismay. - -"Be sure that all will be well," murmured the Rev. John Mansfield. -There was a sort of intense encouragement in the words, and, holding -his head very erect and pushing back his fine square shoulders, Fergus -followed Madame la Comtesse into a peculiarly arranged _salon_, which -was half a bedroom, half a sitting-room. - -On a sofa, supported by many pillows, and covered by a thick crimson -plush rug, lay a thin, very old, very worn man. He had all the -inimitable grace of his nation, and would have sprung to his feet to -put his heels and knees together, and make the necessary bow if Madame -had not interrupted him. - -"Alphonse, thou naughty one, thou must not rise," she exclaimed. "Rest -at thine ease on thy cushions of down, and I will talk to the stranger -with the good face in the other room. M'sieur Desmond will divert thee, -my little Comte." Here she pressed a light kiss on his forehead and -danced out of the room. - -The first thing that Fergus felt when he found himself quite alone with -the Comte St. Juste was the extraordinary likeness the old man bore to -little Margot. It is true that it was a likeness between extreme youth -and extreme age. Nevertheless, it was there. The shape of the face, -the aristocratic poise of the head were repeated in the old man and -the young child. There was a flush of childish pleasure now on the old -Comte's cheeks. He spoke in a hurried voice, - -"Behold! are you indeed a Desmond?" - -"Undoubtedly. I am the eldest son of The Desmond of Desmondstown and in -our country 'The' is the proudest of all titles." - -"All, ah," said the Comte, "I know it not, I know it not. But see--I -speak the English tongue. You doubtless bring me information. I have -been long, long pining for my grandchild. Do you know whether the -little one born to my Henri was son or daughter? All in vain have I -made enquiries, but I have dreamt of that little one, by day and by -night. Have you brought me news of her--of him?" - -Fergus felt his heart sink within him. - -"There is a child," he said, "a daughter. She is not so very young -now--she will be twelve in ten months. She is beautiful. She came to us -of her own accord and The Desmond wants to keep her." - -"_Mais non, non_," exclaimed the old Comte. "Is she not the child -of my son, my only son? And if she is eleven, she will ere long be -marriageable. Ho, sir, no, M'sieur Desmond, I will _not_ give her up." - -"I thought, sir, we might _pay_ you," began Desmond, who was not very -tactful, and longed beyond words to have the clergyman by his side. - -The old Comte moved restlessly. He coughed also; he waved his hot -hands. At that instant Madame la Comtesse entered, accompanied by the -Rev. John Mansfield. - -"I have been hearing the story, the romance," she said. "Ah, but it is -of the most romantic. See! I deliver myself. _Écoutez._ These are my -words: - -"The little Comtesse, for by the French usages she is also a Comtesse, -belongs to _us_, M'sieur Desmond. But we do not wish to be unfair. This -is what I propose. Ah, mon Alphonse, I adore thee, yes, hopelessly, -incurably, I adore thee to the folly. Sip this iced lemonade, my -adoring love, and then listen to the words of a French Comtesse, who -knows how exactly to make the words come right, to make the thoughts -come quickly, to put the ideas straight. The little one, it seems, -belongs both to thee, my adorable Alphonse, and also to the father of -this good gentleman from Ireland. Let's divide her, therefore. We have -her half the time, and the good Desmond the other half the time, and I -begin immediately to make her _dot_. See, my beloved one, see! Is it -not sense? The two grandpapas shake hands over the head of the little -one." - -"It seems to me the best idea of all," said the Rev. John Mansfield. -Now this man had a wonderfully sweet voice, but while he uttered -these words, his heart was like lead within him, for while the two -grandfathers claimed the possession of little Margot, she was to him -the life of life. She was to him the joy of all joy, but not for the -world would he interfere with what he knew was right. He thought of a -home no longer joyful, blessed, cheerful, merry, and then he pushed -that thought out of sight. He was here to mediate, to arrange. - -The old Comte gave an impatient sigh. - -"I tell thee what it is, my good Ninon," he said. "I have not the -secret of eternal youth. I must have my little one soon--at once--or -behold I die. These limbs grow cold, this heart ceases to beat. M'sieur -Desmond, I will have her now--at once--for three months, then your -father of the title so high and proud can have her for three months. Is -that not fair, will not that suffice?" - -"It is fair and it must suffice," said Fergus. - -"Then go, my good M'sieur. Go quickly, I entreat, and return with -the _bébé_ to her French home. Will you not go? It will be good for -_l'enfant_, the little Comtesse St. Juste. But hold for one moment, the -heart and the head get hopelessly mixed. What _dot_ can we settle on -her, Ninon, _ma petite_?" - -"Fifteen hundred thousand francs," replied Ninon without a moment's -hesitation, "and when Monsieur the Irishman brings the little Comtesse -here, we will have a notary present to sign the agreement, so that on -her marriage day she shall be much looked up to, and I myself will -arrange the marriage according to the true French style." - -"We do not want any _dot_ at all," began Fergus in an angry voice, but -John Mansfield rose and interrupted him. - -"We will go home at once and fetch the little one so that you may have -three months' joy in her society, M'sieur le Comte," he said. "At the -end of that time, I will myself fetch her to spend three months with -her Irish grandfather." - -"That is well," said the Comte; "that is as it ought to be." - -"How soon then may we expect the little Comtesse Margot?" said the -present Comtesse St. Juste. - -"Within a week from now," said Fergus firmly. - -"Ah, then, I must be preparing her little wardrobe. Think of that, my -adorable Alphonse. The wardrobe of thy little Comtesse. Of what height -is she, M'sieur Desmond, and of what breadth and of what colour? My -taste is of the rarest. Come with me for one moment all alone, M'sieur -Mansfield; you have seen most of her and can describe her best." - -She ushered Mr. Mansfield into the _salon_, which adjoined that of the -old Comte. - -Mansfield found great difficulty in describing his little angel and -Madame did not fail to notice that in spite of every endeavour the -tears trembled to his eyes, although on no account would he allow them -to fall. - -"Oh, la, la! she is beautiful," exclaimed the Comtesse, when his -description had come to an end. "Monsieur Englishman you are good. -On that point rest assured. You have the distinction of bearing. I -note it. I would that you could talk with our parish priest. You live -among the high and holy things, M'sieur. Now, then, I have a little -secret to impart, I would not tell it to another, but to you, yes, -you have the air--the eye so clear and frank. Now, Monsieur, when I -married the Comte, he was great with the notion that I, his little -Ninon, had given up all the chapeaux and the robes that brought in the -money--the francs so numerous that I could make the old place look -like it did so long ago, but I did _not_ give up my _établissement_, -m'sieur. Mon Dieu! I could not--I could not live without my gifts--I -could not live without my silks and my satins, my lace, all real, I -assure you; my opera cloaks, my tortoise-shell ostrich feather fans. -No, no, I keep my _magasin_ going, so that I can give a good _dot_ to -the little Comtesse, and the old man he knows nothing about it. He must -never--never know--must my adorable Alphonse." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE LITTLE COMTESSE. - - -Margot's last day had dawned at Desmondstown. On the following morning -she must leave grand-dad and Madam and young old Aunt Eileen and young -old Aunt Norah and young old Aunt Bridget. She must also say good-bye -to the boys, to Bruce and Malachi, and she was fully determined somehow -or other to manage to give a last good-bye to Phinias Maloney and his -wife Annie, and the baby who was so truly young. - -Little Margot felt very sad at the thought of going away, and she -nestled more snugly than ever into her grandfather's arms and looked up -into his stern old face and kissed him on his brown cheek. - -[Illustration: She nestled more snugly than ever into her grandfather's -arms.--_Page 100._] - -"Grand-dad," she said, "how much do you love me now?" - -"Ah, worra, then, pushkeen, I'm thinking I love you better than all the -rest of the wide world." - -"Oh, grand-dad," said Margot, with a sort of gasp, "then you love -me better than all the old-youngs. It is wonderfully noble of you, -grand-dad. You are a holy man--you are as holy, I'm thinking, as my -uncle, John Mansfield." - -"Drat John Mansfield!" exclaimed The Desmond. - -"You mustn't say 'drat', grand-dad," said Margot, "more particular when -you speak of a real holy man. Oh, grand-dad," she continued with a -little burst of pain, "I don't _want_ to leave you, I don't." - -"You won't, pushkeen, you won't--keep your mind easy." - -"But I'm going to-morrow," said Margot. "You can't keep me, for I took -a vow. We of Desmondstown don't break vows, do we, grand-dad?" - -"You're staying along of me, vow or no vow," said the old man, clasping -her tighter than ever to his breast. - -It was just at this moment that a commotion was heard in the hall. -Young old Aunt Norah was heard to utter her celebrated "whoop." People -began to run and to exclaim and the next moment, Fergus Desmond and -John Mansfield entered the room side by side. - -Margot, although she was intensely happy at Desmondstown, had missed -Fergus a good deal and could not understand why her beautiful, -extraordinary horse had deserted her, but now she had only time to give -him a nod and a smile and then she rushed forward and was clasped -in Uncle Jacko's arms. She kissed him over and over and over. Her -beautiful eyes grew wet with tears. She turned after a minute and -brought him up to her grandfather. - -"Here's himself, grand-dad, here's the holy man himself." - -Madam had all this time been seated quietly in a corner. She was doing -some of the celebrated Irish crochet, which brought in a trifle of -money towards the expenses of the place. She glanced now at her son and -her son gave her a look which she understood. She went straight up to -little Margot. - -"You and me, we'll go into the kitchen," she said, "and see about your -uncle's tea. Come, _acushla machree_." She took one of Margot's little -hands in one of her own, still small and fine and dainty, and the child -without a struggle, but with extreme unwillingness, left the room. - -The moment the three men were alone together, The Desmond stood up to -his great height. - -"I'm obliged to you, John Mansfield," he said, "for looking after my -granddaughter. You have acted in a very fair way towards her, I'm -thinking; but I want her now for the remainder of my days. You are -willing to give her up, eh, John Mansfield?" - -"I must give her up," said Mansfield. "I have no say in the matter, -alas! She is all the world to me, but I can't keep her against her will -and against what is holy and right." - -"Don't talk to me of holiness, Mansfield," interrupted The Desmond. -"What's settled about my granddaughter? Sit down, man, if you must, you -look a bit white and shaky." - -"Perhaps, Mansfield, you had best let me speak," said Fergus. "He has -had a very hard time, has Mansfield, father, and has behaved like a -perfect saint. I'll tell the story and he'll listen and you'll have to -agree, for there's no other way out." - -"Ah, to be sure, Fergus, you always had the tongue," said The Desmond. -"It was havin' ye trained at old Trinity. Well, go ahead, what's -settled?" - -"You know, of course, that my sister Priscilla married John Mansfield." - -"Married John Mansfield," repeated the old man, "one of the Desmonds -married _you_?" - -"She did, sir, and she's a good woman. She's real aunt to little -Margot." - -"I call her a scourge," said The Desmond. "She never did anything that -anyone else did. She was the torment of my life. But still for her to -demean herself by marrying Farmer Mansfield's son!" - -"He's better than she is, father, ten thousand times better," -interrupted Fergus. "Don't you turn on him. He's gone through enough. -The little one would not be alive now but for his care. Prissy's the -same as ever, only a trifle more bitter. She claimed money for the -child----" - -"Which isn't to be heard of, or thought of," said Mansfield, "but she's -a good woman--I won't allow anything else to be said about her." - -"Well, let her keep her goodness, but let her keep away from us," -said The Desmond. "I'm obliged to you, Mansfield. You have reared up -that pretty bit thing and now she is ours, thank the Almighty. I wish -I could pay _you_, not Prissy, but I haven't got it, Mansfield. I'm -a poor man, bitter poor, but Fergus, who will be The Desmond, will -see after the bit colleen when I am took. I can rest easy in my bed -to-night thinking that she's in the same house, the pretty, sweet lamb. -And she loves me, too, for that matter, Mansfield. Strange as it is to -relate, she is wonderful took up with the old grand-dad." - -"Father, you must let me finish my story," said Fergus. "Things are not -as smooth as you think." - -"What--why? What do you mean? Who dares to interfere between me and -mine? I'll have him ducked in the horse-pond, that I will." - -"Father, you must take things easy," said Fergus. "You can't duck him -in the horse-pond, for he's too far away." - -"Why, he's here, close by. I could lay me hand on him if I'd a mind," -said The Desmond. "Bedad, and I will, too, if I'm further roused. He's -coming holiness over me when he's an out-and-out scoundrel." - -"If you mean John Mansfield, father, he's the best man I know," said -Fergus. "He's put up with Prissy and that's enough. Anyone who can do -that must have the spirit of the Lord in him, say I." - -"She's a good woman," murmured Mansfield. He turned his head a little -aside. This interview was trying him inexpressibly. - -"Now father, you listen," said Fergus. "Mansfield is the best of the -best, and he'll give up the child whom he loved and reared and taught -all she knows, for that matter. He'll give her up without asking a -penny piece." - -"I will so," said Mansfield, "it is the will of the Almighty." - -"Then whyever are ye trying to frighten me?" said The Desmond, sinking -back into his big grandfather chair. - -"It is because of this," said Fergus, "things are fairly smooth, but -not as smooth as you think. Mansfield has nothing to do with it, -so, for the Lord's sake, don't you turn on him. You forget that our -Kathleen married a French nobleman." - -"A Frenchy!" exclaimed The Desmond. "I hate the whole lot of 'em." - -"Well, hate them or not, father, you have got to put up with the fact -that the child has got two grandfathers; you are one, and the Comte -St. Juste of the château near Arles is the other. This good fellow and -I had an interview with the Comte and it seems he has been all these -years searching and searching for the child of his only son, who died. -He didn't even know whether it was a boy or girl, but he knew there was -a child and he couldn't find it. Well, we brought him the tidings and -luckily for us he speaks English, and so does Madame la Comtesse, his -young second wife. He's reasonable enough and he promises a big 'dot' -to the little one." - -"A dot! What's a dot?" cried The Desmond. "A full stop I suppose you -mean, we don't want a full stop." - -"No, father, it's the French for a dowry. It means a lot of money. He -wanted to have the child altogether, but when we spoke to him, he was -amenable to reason. He will give her a lot of money--I can't tell you -the exact sum, but with what he can give and what we can give, the -little one will be well off--very well off--only the condition is this: -She is to spend half her time with him and half her time with you. He's -very old--very much more feeble than you are, father, and he wants -Mansfield and me to bring her over to the château near Arles at once. -She is to stay there three months and then you shall have her for three -months. It's reasonable and I've promised, and it must be done." - -"You say he is older than me," said The Desmond, "and a Frenchy, too, -bedad. Look at me, do I look young now?" - -"No, you have got a bit of a disappointment, but she will be back with -you in three months." - -The Desmond turned his head aside and it was only Mansfield who noticed -his shaking hands. - -"My little bit, my little own," he murmured, "my pushkeen, my little -own." - -Mansfield got up very softly and left the room. In a few minutes he -returned with some hot whisky and water, which he gave the old man. - -"You must take it, sir," he said. "You are shook up, the same as I am, -but she'll be back with you soon, for I'll bring her to you myself." - -There was a great excitement in the house when it was announced by -Fergus that Margot St. Juste, according to the French law, was a -Comtesse, and that she was to go immediately, that very day, to her -French grandfather's château outside Arles. - -The place was in a kind of turmoil, but the old man did not appear. -Little Margot rushed in and clasped her arms round his neck. - -"Grand-dad, I won't go." - -"Ye must, pushkeen." - -"Grand-dad, is your heart a-breaking?" - -"Will you forget me when ye are away, _alanna_?" - -"Never--never--never! As long as you live and as long as I live. Uncle -John promises to bring me back to you faithful and true. And when he -comes may he stay for a couple of days?" - -"He may stay forever and ever, if he doesn't bring that wicked woman, -his wife. She married beneath her, but she's a scold, for all that." - -"I don't know what a scold is," said little Margot, "but I always said -she was a wicked woman. Grand-dad, she didn't marry beneath her, she -married far, far, far above her." - -"Yes, child, perhaps you are right. Let's see when you'll be coming -back to me, pushkeen." - -"This is the 5th of June," said little Margot. - -"June one, July two, August three," said the old man. "Ye'll be back -with me on the fifth of September." - -"I will that; I'll be mad to come back. You and Madam will keep -watching and waiting for me." - -"Don't you doubt it, _acushla_, don't you doubt it." - -"And you won't grow any older, grand-dad, for that would be quite too -terrible." - -"No fear of that," said The Desmond. "I'll keep up for your sake, -_acushla mavourneen_." - -"And I for yours," said little Margot. Then she kissed the old man, and -left Desmondstown. - -The little old trunk was packed and Malachi took it to the gate where -the same funny, springless little cart was waiting for it. Bruce and -Fergus and the three young old Miss Desmonds accompanied Margot to -the little cart. She rode on Fergus's shoulder up the avenue. It was -Malachi who lifted her into the cart. Phinias Maloney was there to -drive her to the station and Phinias Maloney's young wife and the baby -and the other children were all clustering round to bid the little -Comtesse good-day. - -Meanwhile in the beautiful and celebrated town of Arles in South France -great and intense excitement was going on, for Madame la Comtesse St. -Juste was making what she considered suitable preparations for the -arrival of her husband's granddaughter. She had from her own stores -supplied innumerable frocks in French style for the little one to wear. -Not only did she provide frocks, but daintily frilled petticoats and -chapeaux of the very best, and open-work silk stockings and little -delicate kid shoes to match the frocks--in short, she had a complete -wardrobe suitable for the very small Comtesse, who was to be the future -delight of that adorable one, her Alphonse. - -The railway journey was very long and little Margot was tired. She -loved her Irish grandfather, but thought nothing at all about her -French one. She was troubled in her mind, too, at the thought of -parting with her beloved Uncle John. - -"Oh, Jacko, my Latin and Greek," she sobbed. They were getting very -close to Arles when she said this, and John Mansfield took her in his -big arms and kissed her over and over again, telling her that she must -be a very good little girl and that she was indeed lucky to have not -only one but two such loving grandparents. - -"I would much rather have only one," said little Margot. "I don't -understand the double. Why should there be a double, Uncle John? Why, -I'd even put up with----" - -"With what, _mavourneen_?" - -"Why, _herself_, the good woman, to be near _you_," said the child. - -"My darling, we must all fit ourselves for the position that Providence -assigns," remarked good John Mansfield, and then they reached the -great station and found themselves in the stately town, for Arles is -very south and very warm and exceedingly picturesque. - -Mansfield made enquiries and discovered that a carriage was waiting -for _la petite_ Comtesse. Into this the little Margot stepped. John -Mansfield followed her. The ugly brown trunk was placed beside the -coachman, and they drove in the direction of the château, which was -quite a mile outside the town of Arles. - -They found Madame la Comtesse waiting to greet them. She wore a most -wonderful dress, which she considered according to her own ideas, _le -juste milieu_. On her head was a chapeau, which consisted mostly of -large violets. Her dress was pale green, with a _triste_ little bow of -black just under the chin. She bounded down the steps and clasped _la -petite_ Comtesse in her arms. - -"I am thy _belle_ grand'mère," she said. "My pigeon, my little cabbage, -look at me, I am thy _belle_ grand'mère in very truth." - -"But you are young," said Margot. "My Irish grandmother is beautiful -and old." - -"Ah, but never mind, little strange one, it cannot be helped. The Irish -grand'mère is old--the French grand'mère is young, _très bien_. Come -with me and I will introduce thee to thy grandpère--eh, but he has -got the years and well do they suit _mon_ Alphonse. Thy grandpère is -adorable, my little cabbage." - -The French grandpère was certainly very different from the Irish -grandfather, and little Margot looked at him out of her soft black eyes -with a puzzled mingling of admiration and surprise. - -"Ah, but thou art indeed come, _mon enfant_!" - -The old Comte reclined just as of old, on his down pillows. He was -covered just as he was a week past with a soft crimson plush coverlet. -He looked anxiously out of his sunken black eyes into the soft black -eyes of _la petite_ Comtesse. - -"Thou art here--thou art my own, thou wast born of my Henri. Kiss me, -little one, press thy rosy lips on mine." - -Little Margot did what she was told. - -"My grandfather of Ireland," she said, "is much bigger than you, -grandfather of France. You will not perhaps live very long." - -"Ah, but _mon enfant_, don't say anything so shocking. _Fi donc, -fi donc_," exclaimed the little Comtesse, bending over her beloved -Alphonse and kissing him passionately, then she turned to the child. -"_A la bonne heure_," she cried, "thou shalt have a _dot_ that will -astonish thee, and the notary has come and he will make out the amount -that was promised M. Mansfield, of the English Church." - -"I wish to say one thing," remarked John Mansfield. "This is the sixth -of June, I will return for the child on the sixth of September, but -during that time I wish her to learn." - -"_Ah, oui, m'sieur, certainement!_ What would you wish _la petite_ -Comtesse to acquire?" - -"Not Latin and not Greek," interrupted Margot. "My good uncle, the -holiest man in the world, teaches me those languages." - -"There is a school where I will send thee, _petite_. There thou shalt -acquire the French in all its perfection, and thou shalt learn the -dancing. Ah! bravo! everything shall be as it should he. Thou must -prepare for an excellent marriage, _ma chère petite_ Comtesse." - -"What is a marriage?" asked Margot. - -"It is--ah, but thou must not know yet. Digest well my counsels. I -shall pray to _le bon Dieu_ for the success of _votre mari_, that is to -be. M'sieur, you are a _religieux_?" - -"He is a holy man," said Margot. - -"_Ah, oui, oui, mon enfant_--I know all that, but, nevertheless, I am -_tout à fait Français_ and I love the French the best of all people in -the world." - -"And I love the English and the Irish," said Margot. - -"Ah well, wait a while, _ma pauvre chérie_. Thou wilt soon see for -thyself. When the marriage time comes on--then will happen the -rejoicing, and I can dress thee, ah well! I have thy little garments -already arranged, but the _avocat_ is waiting. The _dot_ must be -settled once and for all on this brilliant _petite_ Comtesse, and then -M'sieur, you will tell those good people in Ireland and your own sacred -household what good has befallen _la petite_." - -"I like it not at all," said Margot to herself. She stood looking -disconsolately out of one of the windows and remembered The Desmond and -the old place gone to rack and ruin, and hated the idea of being left -alone with grand'mère and grandpère of the French nation. - -"It troubles me," she thought, "why did I ever leave my little home -with my beloved Jacko?" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -BROWN HATS AND FANS. - - -It is one of the astonishing and also one of the blessed things of life -that children of the age of Marguerite St. Juste quickly accommodate -themselves to circumstances. She was naturally a very brave little -girl, and she had a heart warmer than most, but there was a quiet -determination about her, that same determination which had won her way -into all the hearts of the good folks at Desmondstown, and this she -brought now to her aid. - -Her French grandpère was very nice, and she set to work to learn French -as quickly as she could, in order to be able to converse with him not -only in the English tongue but also in his own. The young new wife said -that _la petite_ Comtesse was altogether of the most ravishing. The -old Comte said nothing at all, but he looked at _la petite_ out of his -twinkling black eyes and tried hard to see her father in that bonny -little brown face--in those steadfast, deep, very dark eyes and in -those smiling coral lips, but although little Margot had the dark eyes -of her father, very dark and very beautiful, she had what was better -for herself, the soul of her mother. It was because of that soul that -Kathleen Desmond had been so loved and because further she had happened -to impart that soul to her little child Margot, who was in consequence -more Irish than French. - -Nevertheless she must remain for three months with Madame la Comtesse -and with Monsieur le Comte, her grandpère. - -There was one relief, however, for her. She had little or no affection -for her French relations, but she did most truly adore the idea of -going to school at Arles and of learning something about French girls -in general. - -Madame la Comtesse had most solemnly promised dear Uncle Jacko to -send her to school and Marguerite waited impatiently for the day and -hour when she might commence her studies. The day and hour, however, -seemed to be a long way off. Each day as it came she was expected to -devote all her time to her grandpère and to make the old man laugh by -her funny attempts at the French language. Still there was no talk of -school. There was, however, a vast amount of talk of dress. - -"_Mon_ grandpère" laughed until he could hardly stop laughing when -he saw Margot in her pretty French costumes. He chuckled when she -attempted to imitate his French and Madame kept on saying, "_Fi donc, -fi donc!_ Ah! but thou mightst be a child of three and thirty to hear -thee talk. See, behold! How thou dost make thy grandpère laugh. Thou -dost do him much good. _Fi donc, petite_ Comtesse, thou must not make -him laugh till he expires. Has he not already the liver too pronounced? -We must take care of him, _ma petite_. He wishes for thy company and -I--behold I have my château. _Tiens!_ it comforts me not a little." - -Margot gazed with some amazement at her young grandmother. - -"Thou hast made a promise, _ma_ grand'mère," she exclaimed. "The days -fly and you do not fulfil it--you do not carry it out. See, behold, -Madame, it is of the most religious. You said it with those lips to the -holiest man in the world. Behold, Madame, there will come a curse on -thee if thou dost not carry it out." - -"_Non, non, non_," cried Madame, in great distress of mind. "Speak not -so cruelly, _ma petite_ Comtesse. See, _mon enfant_, I love thee. Thou -shalt have another chapeau." - -"I don't want another chapeau," said Margot. "I'd like to go to school, -where the really young girls--not the old young girls--live. Thou didst -promise, Comtesse. Thou must keep thy word." - -"But thou dost give pleasure to the old man, thy grandpère. Think of -that, _ma petite_." - -"I will give him greater pleasure when I go to school," said Margot. "I -will bring him back day by day stories--ah, of the funniest. He will -laugh. Thou wilt see, Comtesse, how he will enjoy himself." - -"_Ma petite_, thou hast a wise head," said the Comtesse. "Thou shalt -have thy way. There is a school for the trimming of hats and for the -perfect education in the French tongue, by one Thérèse Marcelle. I will -take thee to her to-morrow morning." - -"But I don't want to learn to trim hats," said Margot. - -"Ah, but it is a rare accomplishment, little one. Thou will learn it -and _peut-être_ the piano also, and _peut-être_ the French tongue in -all its perfection." - -"And are the girls at Thérèse Marcelle's old young, or only young?" -enquired Margot. - -"Ah, _ma petite bébé_, they are one and all of the youngest and the -gayest. See, I will take thee to-morrow. I am the last woman in the -world to break my word." - -Margot skipped away in her light and graceful manner and the next -morning she and the Comtesse St. Juste drove into Arles in one of the -very newest and best motor-cars of the time. They stopped before a -large _magasin_, which looked to little Margot far more like a gorgeous -shop than a school. There were chapeaux innumerable displayed in -certain windows, there were all sorts of robes--robes of every sort and -description also to be seen. - -Madame entered smiling, holding the little hand of _la petite_. She was -greeted by smiles from every one in the shop. In fact, her entrance -seemed to bring a ray of sunshine with it. All the young women who were -walking about and attending to different customers were trying to catch -her eye in order to secure one of her much treasured smiles. - -Madame la Comtesse, however, knew her own mind and, motioning to Margot -to seat herself, entered into conversation of a very earnest and at -the same time spirited nature with a young woman who sat behind a sort -of raised counter. Margot was left to look around her. She was much, -indeed greatly, puzzled by what she saw. What could have happened--what -a very queer sort of school this was! - -Presently a number of ladies came in and Margot forgot her own -immediate interests in the excitement of watching them. They did not -look like English ladies nor did they look like French. One of them -was very large and very fat and red. She had a square figure planted -on large square feet and a firm jaw indicating a tenacity of purpose, -which the ill-natured might call pig-headedness. A young and very -pretty French girl came up and spoke to her. - -She said that she required a chapeau, condemning as she spoke the -entire style of Madame Marcelle's goods. - -"There is only one thing here that would suit me," she said. "See, -behold!" she pointed to a very small child's hat in a corner. It was -trimmed with small bunches of marguerites and violets. Her friend -expostulated with her but she did not take the least notice. - -"_J'aime beaucoup le chapeau là_," she said, pointing to the one of her -choice. - -"Ah," exclaimed the young French shop-girl. "_Le chapeau pour la bébé._ -It is nice, is it not? But now, we must find something Parisian for -Madame herself." - -Before Margot could quite get to the end of this exciting story and -find out which hat the red-faced, fat woman required, Madame la -Comtesse came to her side. - -"I have settled for thee, _ma petite_," she said. "Thou wilt come here -each morning and take lessons in the making of chapeaux, then, after -that is over, thou shalt have an hour in which to learn the French -tongue and half an hour to do the different harmonies on the piano. -Then thou wilt return to my Alphonse. Thou wilt be a very happy _chère -petite_. See, I leave thee now under the care of Madame Marcelle." - -Margot did not know whether to laugh or cry. The Comtesse whisked -out of the shop amidst more nods and smiles and Madame came and took -Margot's little hand. - -"Behold," she said, "thou art of the _ancienne noblesse_. Now thou wilt -learn. I myself will instruct thee. Dost thou see that woman with the -red face?" - -"Oh, yes," said Margot, "she is very ugly." - -"She wants to find a hat," said Madame, "which would only suit a -_bébé_. Now then, come. You and I we will go to her and show her what -is right. Thou must flatter her into buying a Parisian chapeau. She -would look absurd with her own ideas." - -"I thought this--this was a school," said poor little Margot, raising -her brown eyes and fixing them on Madame Marcelle. - -"So it is a school, _ma petite_ Comtesse, and of the most wonderful, -the most _extraordinaire_. Ah, Madame la Comtesse is right to have you -taught. A little knowledge goes a long way when it is acquired as I -will teach it. Now, then, stand aside and listen. You will soon learn. -I manage in this school of all schools the best. Come! Hold my hand." - -She brought the pretty child forward and stood right in front of the -red-faced lady. - -"You want a chapeau, Madame. Ah, _c'est drôle, ne c'est pas?_ That is -for _la bébé_." She pointed with scorn at the tiny hat. "Here is one -for you. See, I am in the despair to oblige you, but behold I have the -very thing." - -Madame produced a hat from off its stand, covered with flowers, -butterflies and small feathers of different colours. - -"Behold for yourself, Madame! It came from Paris yesterday." - -"It is too showy. I like the little hat best," said Madame of the red -face. - -"Let me speak," suddenly interrupted little Margot. "Your face behold! -it is red and must be softened. You shall wear brown. See, I picture it -in my eye," continued Margot, speaking as though she had been acting -shop-woman all her days. "A brown hat _très doux_ and one long feather -to match. Have you such a hat, Madame?" exclaimed little Margot. - -"It is wonderful the taste of the Comtesse," cried Madame. "She sees at -once what will suit you, _chère Madame_." - -"The Comtesse! That little girl a Comtesse!" cried the astonished -red-faced American lady. - -"Ah, _oui_, Madame. She is the young Comtesse St. Juste and her taste -it is of the most exquisite. Paris itself cannot touch her." - -"Why does she come here?" asked the American. "But get me the brown hat -with the brown feather. She looks like a child who has pretty taste." - -Little Margot stood very silent. She was not going to laugh. Having -given her idea she stuck to it. Her grave and lovely eyes were fixed on -the American's face. The brown hat was produced in a twinkling. It was -tried on. It was pronounced perfect. - -"I will have a fan to match," said the American. - -"_Ah, oui, c'est bon_," said little Margot. "I will myself choose it -for you, Madame." - -She chose a fan made of brown feathers with a long tortoise-shell -handle. - -"Here, behold!" said little Margot. - -Immediately the other American ladies buzzed round the brown hat -and round the brown fan, and little Margot found herself acting as -shopwoman and enjoying herself immensely. - -"And now the price, Mademoiselle la Comtesse," said the red-faced -American, when all the ladies had been provided with hats and fans. - -"I know not," said Margot. "Madame, you will tell the price. For me, I -am _fatiguée_." She marched away, hearing however behind her a perfect -buzz of remonstrance. - -The prices were monstrous--they were absurd. They were beyond even -thinking about. - -Madame stood calmly by, holding a pile of hats with brown feathers in -her hand. - -"It is the will of _la petite_ Comtesse," she remarked, and then again -she stood silent. - -By-and-bye the hustle grew so great, the noise so animated, that -Margot wondered how the whole thing would end and when these horrid, -disagreeable women would leave the shop. But after storm there came -peace. The brown hats and the brown fans hastily arranged themselves, -the money was paid, one hundred and fifty francs for each chapeau, and -one hundred and thirty francs for each fan. - -Madame danced up to Margot and kissed her several times. - -"We have made--we have made--oh, so much for your _dot_, little one," -she said. "You are the very best saleswoman I ever knew. What will our -sweet Madame la Comtesse say when we tell her! Six chapeaux at 150 -francs apiece, six fans at 130 francs apiece! Ah, but it is marvellous! -You have the natural gift, little one. Come with me now, into the -apartment, where we sell the robes of all sorts and colours. You will -make the fortune of this place, little Comtesse." - -"I will not go with you, Madame," cried little Margot. "This is not a -school--it is a shop. I want to learn my French. I demand that I learn -it. I will not again give counsel about hats for ugly women." - -"You will learn the tongue of the French so ravishing in those -apartments set aside for _les robes_," cried Madame. "Come, my little -Comtesse, you are a genius and must not throw away your gift." - -"I tell you I am _fatiguée_," cried Margot. "I will not enter a shop; -I will go to school. It is a vow taken. Where is my grand'mère? See, I -will do nothing more in your horrid shop." - -"_Ah, ma pauvre petite_," cried the good-natured Madame. "_La petite_, -she is tired out and no wonder. Ah, _ma chérie_ is it not for your own -_dot_? Now, come, listen. There is one playing in the other room. He -is playing those delicious songs of _Wagnère_. Courage, _mon enfant_. -You have done well and are tired. Ah, look at that robe in exquisite -satin, coloured as the oyster, and that single row of pearls round -the neck and that magnificent diamond star crowning the summit of _le -chevelure_! See the air it lends. Will you not help me to sell that -costume so ravishing, my little Comtesse?" - -"_Non, non_, I hate it all!" said Margot. "I will listen to the -music of _Wagnère_ until my French mistress comes and then I will -return to M'sieur le Comte St. Juste, _mon_ grandpère. Ah, but I am -miserable--miserable in a shop. What would The Desmond say if he saw -his pushkeen in a shop?" - -Madame saw that she had gone as far as she could with the little -Comtesse. She placed her where she could listen to the beautiful music -which delighted the child and soothed her troubled heart, and then a -young Frenchman entered the _appartement_, and with his knees and heels -tightly pressed together made a very low bow to the little Comtesse St. -Juste. He began talking to her in a lively manner in the French tongue, -correcting her mistakes and teaching her how to use the French language -properly. - -Margot was a wonderfully quick little pupil, but she sprang up with -delight when she saw the Comtesse enter. - -The Comtesse had an earnest conversation with Madame and approached -Margot, her black eyes full of smiles and her cheeks very bright. - -"Ah, but thou art of the very best, _mon enfant_," she cried, and she -took the little Comtesse in her arms and kissed her before everyone in -the shop. - -The child and the woman got into the motor-car and drove off as quickly -as possible in the direction of the château. - -"Thou must never do that again, grand'mère," cried Margot. - -"Do what, _ma petite_, my cabbage, my pigeon?" - -"That was a shop, not a school. I desire to go to a school," said -Margot. "I will tell M'sieur le Comte, my French grandpère." - -"Thou wilt not, thou couldst not be so cruel," exclaimed her French -grandmother. - -"Ah, but I could and I would. I will not learn in a shop." - -"Then, however am I to get thee thy _dot_, _ma petite_?" cried -the Comtesse, "and thou hast a gift in that way--a gift the most -marvellous. Didst thou not sell six brown hats and six brown fans -to-day? Thou hast the true taste running in thy veins, _ma petite_." - -"But you don't want me to sell hats," said Margot. - -"Yes, I do, I do. Thou hast the gift. Madame confirms it. Tell not thy -grandpère or he will rage--he would rage in the French fashion and -that might cause _la mort_. Ah, _ma petite_, thou wilt not injure thy -_pauvre_ grandpère." - -"But I do not understand," cried little Margot. - -"I will put it clear to thee if thou wilt not tell thy grandpère." - -"Perhaps I will not tell," said Margot. - -"Thou must not tell, _ma petite_. The hats and fans thou didst sell -were mine and the money goes towards thy _dot_. Go to my most beautiful -_établissement_ each day for one hour, for thou hast most truly the -gift of selling, and the title of the little Comtesse goes far. Then -I will call for thee and take thee to a school, a school for the -daughters of the _ancienne noblesse_. Wilt thou do this for thy _pauvre -belle_ grand-mère and wilt thou keep it dark--very dark from thy -grandpère?" - -"But why--why must he not know?" asked little Margot. - -"Because, _ma petite_, when I met that most noble and ancient -gentleman, the château was going to ruin. He wanted the comfort but he -had not _l'argent_. I told him I had _le dot_ and he married me. He -thinks I have given up the _établissement_ where the chapeaux and the -robes are, but how could I give them up, _ma petite_ Comtesse, when we -would have nothing to live on otherwise? See, thou hast the gift and -thou canst help me; one hour a day amongst my chapeaux, one hour a day -for _la petite_ Comtesse to show her taste, and then I take thee to the -very best school in Arles." - -"Will you really, Comtesse?" asked Margot. - -"I will, really, my most beautiful, my most lovely _bébé_. Do not -embarrass thyself. All will be well. It is a bargain between us. No -word to the Comte, thy grandpère! He is too feeble and too proud. He -has the pride of all the St. Justes in his veins, but he lives in -comfort out of my _établissement_. Wilt thou not help me for one hour -or two hours a day, little Comtesse?" - -"Yes, if you keep your word about the school," said Margot. "I will not -otherwise, indeed I will not." - -"No fear, _ma petite_, my word is my bond." - -"But," said Margot, "when I get back now, what am I to say to -grandpère? How can I talk to him about the shop which is thy shop?" - -"Tell him thou didst go into an _établissement_ with me, thy -grand'mère, and describe to him the American lady with the stout figure -and the red face. Tell him what she wanted and what thou didst suggest. -Ah, but he will laugh--he will roar." - -"I like Ireland better than France," said Margot solemnly, "but I -will do what thou dost wish on this one occasion, grand'mère, for -otherwise I could not live. To-morrow I will attend thy horrible shop -for one hour and one hour only, and then I will go to the school where -the young-young girls are and where I can be taught. See, thou hast -promised." - -"I have promised and I will fulfil," said her grand'mère. "The school -belongs to my friend, M'selle la Princesse de Fleury. Thou dost not -know how much thou wilt learn there. It is _chic_ of the _chic_. Oh, -la! la! thou wilt enjoy thyself at the Princesse de Fleury's school." - -So little Margot entered the old château fairly satisfied. To be taught -by a Princess seemed a very high honour indeed, and she determined to -lose no time in picking up knowledge to delight Uncle Jacko and dear, -dear grand-dad, The Desmond. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE ENGLISH GIRLS AT THE SCHOOL OF LA PRINCESSE. - - -Margot was the sort of girl who invariably and without any doubt kept -her word, but, being of that somewhat rare species, she expected those -about her to keep their words also. Accordingly Madame la Comtesse -was forced to send _la petite_ Comtesse St. Juste to her friend _la_ -Princesse de Fleury, having made arrangements beforehand with that good -woman, that the child should go to her every day for _déjeuner_. After -that she was to devote herself to the learning of French and that music -which charms even the savage breast. - -Little Margot was satisfied with this arrangement, and her grandfather, -M. le Comte, little guessed that she was not at school all day long, -but devoted the early hours of her day to selling hats innumerable for -Madame la Comtesse. - -Little Margot kept her word to the letter. She had a real taste for -millinery, acquired no one quite knew how, and it soon became the rage -in the _établissement_ that M'selle _la petite_ Comtesse should serve -the customers, for had she not the taste _magnifique_! At school, too, -little Margot was perfectly happy. Her morning hours were hours of duty -rather than pleasure, but the rest of her days were full of pleasure. -She delighted beyond anything in acquiring knowledge, and very soon -discovered to her intense delight that there were several English girls -at the school of la Princesse de Fleury. - -There was, in particular, Lady Dorothy Duncan. She was living with a -French uncle at Arles and went every day to the school of la Princesse. -She was a fair, pretty, thoroughly English girl, and, although she was -quite three years older than the little Comtesse, she took to the child -with the dark bright eyes at once. The child, in her turn, took to Lady -Dorothy. She was allowed for the good of her manners, according to la -Princesse, to speak English with Lady Dorothy, and many beyond ordinary -words were the confidences that each young girl made to the other. - -Margot grew tall and graceful for her age; Dorothy was small and -very slim. Things went on well both at the school and at the -_établissement_, until one day Dorothy Duncan invited her most favoured -friend to lunch in the château of _mon oncle_. - -"Is it very, very French?" asked little Margot. - -"Oh, no, not any more than anything else here," said Dorothy. "You will -enjoy it and you must come. As for me, I am overcome with raptures. My -eldest sister--she is just seventeen--has come to us all the way from -Rome. She will soon he likely to meet someone whom she can marry. She -will be absorbed in getting her trousseau, partly from Paris and partly -from that great _établissement_ here, kept by Madame Marcelle!" Margot -felt herself colouring slightly. - -"What is your sister like to look at, Dorothy?" she asked. - -"Behold, understand!" exclaimed Dorothy, putting on all the French -manners she could acquire. "I think that some day I shall be beautiful -but not like Hébé. Hébé is almost as beautiful as you, _ma petite_ -Comtesse, only of course she is very much older. They say that the -establishment of Ninon Lecoles cannot be beaten even in Paris, that -city of all the delights. She has sold it now to Madame Marcelle. Ah, -but my sister will make a grand marriage and _l'oncle_ Gustave will -give her a _dot_ worthy of her." - -"I am to have a _dot_, too," said little Margot, "but, behold, I care -not for it! It is--it is less than of no use at all. What I want is to -have my heart brimful of love." - -"Eh, but you are a darling," said Lady Dorothy. "I know you will love -my sister." - -"I am sure I shall," said little Margot. "Go on, describe her to me, -Dorothy." - -"We are very proud in England," began Dorothy, "very proud indeed. Ah, -but our pride is immense. It is like a mushroom, standing up higher -than our heads and the top of it covering us and shutting out the -world. Of all my sisters there is none so proud as Hébé, and _l'oncle_ -Gustave says she will make a very great marriage indeed. She is like -me, but she has dark eyes, whereas mine are blue like bits of sky, -_n'est-ce pas_?" - -Margot made no reply. - -"When am I going to see your sister, Dorothy?" - -"Shall we arrange for to-morrow? You may perhaps see one of the many -_prétendants_ to her hand. Not that she looks at them. Ah _non, non_. -She abides her time. There is one called Maurice de Croix. He is a -man of the world with an air superb and distinguished, but my sister, -she will not regard him. But there, I must not speak any more on such -matters. There is, _peut-être_ one in England. I guess--but I dare not -say. You will come to-morrow, little Margot, straight from school and -be introduced to _ma belle soeur_." - -Margot gave a little sigh, said that she must ask grandpère, and would -let her friend know the following day. - -Grandpère was highly pleased that his little cabbage should have tea in -the true French style with _le pauvre_ Gustave. - -"He was once a very great man," said grandpère, "but he lived through -his fortune and now--now he subsists on his pride. It is a great -possession, the pride, _ma très belle_ Margot, but it produces the -hunger. I took care to do otherwise. I married my Ninon and since then, -behold, I live in luxury, and can give thee a glorious _dot_, _ma -petite_!" - -While Margot and her grandfather were talking, Madame la Comtesse -entered the room. She was dressed in a pale shade of green with -quantities of sequins of the same colour arranged on the front of her -dress. Her little collar was of the best Honiton lace. Her dress was -short, coming barely to her ankles. She wore open-work silk stockings -of the same shade and little green kid shoes _en suite_. She looked -very charming and young, and no one could tell from her appearance what -her age could possibly be. - -She rushed up now to "_mon_ Alphonse," arranged his down pillows, -settled his soft rug of crimson plush and said, "Ah, behold, art thou -not full of comfort, my adored one? And what has _la petite_ been -saying to thee?" - -"Good news, my Ninon," replied grandpère. "Gustave, the present Marquis -de Serrègnon, wants this _bébé_ to have tea with his nieces Hébé and -Dorothy to-morrow evening. Ah, but I fear the food will be poor, but -the Marquis is the Marquis, and we must not despise him. This little -Margot, this _chère petite_, loves dearly his English niece, Lady -Dorothy Duncan, but it is the sister whom Lady Dorothy wishes her to -meet." - -A cloud, very imperceptible, but undoubtedly there, swept over the face -of Madame la Comtesse. - -"All shall be as thou dost wish, my most adorable Alphonse," she -remarked, and she kissed the old man first on the hand, then on the -brow, then on each cheek and then, by an almost imperceptible wave of -her own small white hand, motioned Margot to follow her out of the room. - -"Answer me, and answer me truly, _mon enfant_," she said. "Hast thou -seen the Lady Hébé Duncan in my _établissement_? Hast thou perchance -served her, _ma petite_?" - -"I have seen her and I have served her," said Margot. "I helped her to -choose chapeaux yesterday." - -"Then she will know thee again when thou dost go to that place of -desolation where le Marquis de Serrègnon lives." - -"Yes, _ma_ grand'mère," replied Margot, looking full into the face of -the little shop-keeper. - -"And yet thou must go," said Madame. "It would offend thy grandpère -else. It does not do to offend the old. _Tiens!_ The heart beats too -slow, it must not receive the shock, _n'est-ce pas_?" - -"I never wanted to serve in your shop, grand'mère," exclaimed little -Margot. - -"Ah, but silence, my little beautiful! We have to make the francs to -secure the proper _dot_ for thee, _mon enfant_. Now, let me consider. -Thou wilt not go to my _établissement_ to-morrow, and I will dress thee -different. I will not even send thee to the school of la Princesse, but -I will myself take thee in my motor car to the château of the Marquis. -There I will dispose of thee for one short hour. During that hour thou -must play the _rôle_ of _la malade_. Thou must appear worn and pale -and ill. Ah, but I am clever enough to manage, and behold assuredly it -shall be done. Thou shalt wear the dress of _la malade_, and thou must -speak low and soft and refuse the food which is offered to thee and -which in truth is not worth thy accepting. Now see, behold, be guided -by me, thy _belle_ grand'mère, and _mon_ Alphonse will guess nothing." - -Little Margot, not being in the least disturbed or annoyed, readily -agreed. She returned to sit with her grandfather and kept him in fits -of laughter with accounts of her schoolfellows. Meanwhile, Madame was -very busy. She wrote two letters, one to the Marquis de Serrègnon, the -other to la Princesse, and she kept Margot away from the shop that -day. Margot was undoubtedly making the said shop pay, but that did not -matter at all, if only the adorable Alphonse was kept composed and -happy in his mind. - -When the hour approached for little Margot to visit the Duncans in -the tumble-down old château, she was dressed very carefully by her -grand'mère. In some curious manner the natural colour seemed to depart -from her rosy cheeks, her eyes, so dark and brilliant, looked a trifle -dull. She wore her school frock of course, but taking her all round, -she had a sort of extinguished appearance. - -Madame la Comtesse taught her carefully what she had to say. - -"'I have _mal à la tête_,' Thou wilt not say more; thou wilt not -say less. The Marquis will be scared for fear thou dost carry the -infection. Oh, la, la! It is a good idea, and they will not think of -the bright little Comtesse when they see the sad looking _malade_ who -cannot eat or say much. Thou must keep all the particulars about the -_établissement_ close to thy breast. Thou must not allude to Madame -Marcelle. Thou wilt go to her to-morrow morning again as arranged and, -behold, I will have refreshments the most enticing for thee on thy -return to-day! Now then, my Ma'm'selle, come along! The Lady Hébé will -not notice the drooping child, who served her with so many chapeaux and -at so great a price. See now, thou wilt he thy old self to-morrow and -no one will ever guess our little strategy." - -Accordingly Margot, accompanied by grand'mère, arrived at the ancient -castle of the Marquis de Serrègnon. Dorothy rushed out to meet her. -Margot scrambled weakly out of the motor car, which was closed and -which was to call for her again in an hour and a half. - -Margot felt terribly inclined to laugh. She longed to say "I am -a little shopwoman and this is all nonsense," but if she did so, -according to grand'mère, she would destroy the life of that adorable -one, Alphonse St. Juste. Accordingly she went languidly into the house -and when Dorothy asked her in some surprise what ailed her and why she -looked so white and good-for-nothing, Margot said in a voice _très -douce_, - -"I have _mal à la tête_, Dorothy." - -"Ah, but what a pity that is," said Dorothy, "and we are all so gay, -so very, very gay. A whole lot of chapeaux have been sent to us from -Madame Marcelle--for Hébé, of course. I have told Hébé that you are -beautiful, Comtesse, but you don't look beautiful to-day." - -"It is _mal à la tête_," repeated Margot, trying to make her voice -sound as weary as possible. - -"Ah, _pauvre petite_," said Lady Dorothy. "You must lie on the sofa in -this salon. _Mon oncle_ Gustave will not come in, because we will ask -him not, but you must see Hébé, for I long much to know your opinion of -her." - -Hébé Duncan at that moment bounded into the room. There was nothing -whatever French about her. She was a laughing, highly coloured, -rollicking English girl. Her age might have been eighteen--it might -have been more, it might have been less. She stared hard for a minute -out of her bright eyes at the little Comtesse and then said, "Oh, la, -la!" and afterwards went off into fits of laughter. - -The little Comtesse murmured, "It is _la mal à la tête_." - -Dorothy put soft cushions under the head that did not ache and a rug -over the little feet that pined to scamper about. As soon as ever she -had done this, Hébé pulled her out of the room. - -Then began a violent conversation on the wide landing outside the -Marquis' salon. - -Dorothy said, "Impossible!" - -Hébé said, "It is true, a certainty!" - -Then she re-appeared holding several huge bandboxes in her hands. - -"I bought these," she said, "from a _très petite_ Comtesse at the -_établissement_ of la Madame Marcelle. Would you like to look at them?" - -"No," said Margot, and she suddenly began to cry. "I hate -_établissements_, I hate deceit. I have _not_ got _mal à la tête_. Is -there any cold water near?" - -Lady Dorothy stared and Lady Hébé frowned. But Margot was only thinking -of Uncle Jacko, dear Uncle Jacko, and of grand-dad The Desmond. - -"Take me where I can find some water, some icy cold water, please," she -said to Dorothy. - -Dorothy obeyed in a sort of bewilderment. She took Margot to her own -room and soon the whitening process was removed from the little cheeks -and the brilliant and lovely colour returned. Margot's eyes sparkled as -of old. - -"Now you look like yourself," said Dorothy. "You have no _mal à la -tête_." - -"None, none, none," cried Margot. "Never had." - -"Ah, but how strange," said Lady Dorothy. - -"But never mind. Hébé will soon love you. Behold, Hébé, behold! This is -my little friend." - -"And my little shop-keeper," said Hébé in an angry voice. - -Margot's big eyes blazed with a kind of fury. - -"And are you really, really going to tell the Marquis?" said the child, -her eyes blazing. "Take your chapeaux then, here, and here, and here. I -have repented of my lie--I have confessed to you both--but--but----" - -She pulled the hats out of their bandboxes and flung them in Hébé's -face. - -"Now I despise you," she said. "I did what I did to help _ma belle_ -grand'mère and she keeps M. le Comte in all luxury and does everything -for me. No, I don't want your tea; I don't want your _gâteaux_. I am -not ashamed of helping _ma belle_ grand'mère. I help her a little, -and she helps me much, but I will never choose a hat for you again. -Understand! You can go to Madame Marcelle and you can spread the news, -if you like, that I help a little one who helps me much. Behold, our -château! It is neat, it is clean, it is white. It is full of things -most beautiful and _mon_ grandpère eats of the best and lives in the -best style and he is happy. I will go on helping _ma belle_ grand'mère -and you can do as you please, but I will never choose a hat for -you, Lady Hébé. See, I am off home now. I can easily get back to my -comfortable home." - -"Oh, but no, Margot, no," exclaimed Dorothy. "Do not be so silly." - -"I will not be silly, I will be wise," said Margot. "This is worse than -being young-old and old-young. Good-bye, for the present, I do not -choose to be a guest and be looked down on. It is not the Irish way, -and I did not think until now that it was the French way." - -She wrapped her pretty little coat round her shoulders and marched down -the avenue with the air of a small duchess. - -Nevertheless when Margot got back, which she did before the motor-car -had time to call for her, she was met by a singularly discontented -_belle grand'mère_. - -"Why, my pretty, why dost thou come so soon?" she exclaimed. - -"Because I couldn't act a lie, grand'mère, and I had to tell the truth, -grand'mère," said Margot. "The Lady Hébé is no lady. She calls herself -one, but she is not, and I will never, never sell her another hat." - -"Ah, _ma petite_, what mischief hast thou done!" said _la_ grand'mère. - -"I care not, I care not at all," said little Margot. "I will not act -the lie even for thee, grand'mère. I wish that thou wouldst let me go -no more to the shop." - -"Ah, but thou must--thou art the fortune of the _établissement_, _ma -petite_," said grand'mère. "And think what fun it will be selling -chapeaux to others and never to the proud Comtesse. We will get someone -else for her and thou needst not serve her." - -"_Très bien_," answered little Margot and she entered her grandfather's -presence with a toss of her pretty head. - -But the next day at school things did not go so well with the little -Comtesse. It was quite evident that much as Dorothy had admired her the -day before, Hébé had brought her round to the impossibility of having -anything to do with a girl who sold hats at a shop. Dorothy not only -came round to Hébé's view of the question, but she enlightened her -school-fellows with the true status of the little Comtesse. - -"She's all a sham," said Dorothy. "I won't speak to her any more, no, -not me!" - -Margot was beginning to get rather fond of Dorothy, but she took her -English friend's desertion very coolly. She thought out matters in her -acute little brain. She let the French girls alone, but there were, -including herself and Dorothy, sixteen English girls in the school. -These girls were all very much about the same age as Margot. She got -them into one of the very small _salons_, which abounded in the old -palace, now converted into a school. They all looked askance at her, -but it was difficult to keep from smiling back into those smiling and -beautiful dark eyes and it was still more difficult to resist the -dimples that played round the lips and cheeks of the little Comtesse. - -"See, behold, listen!" she exclaimed. "Dorothy Duncan does not like me -because I help Madame Marcelle in her _magasin_. She pretends I am not -a lady--that is not true. I am a lady and my Irish grandfather has a -title higher up than the stars. What do we think of Comtes in Ireland -when we have 'The's' of the most ancient! _Ma belle_ grand'mère has -asked me to help Madame Marcelle a little bit. _Ma belle_ grand'mère -does great things for me and for _mon bon_ grandpère. She is a woman -oh, of the noblest, and there is not a château greater or better than -ours at Arles. Now, behold, listen! What sort of château does the -Marquis keep? Is it tidy, is it neat? Are there good things to eat -therein? I guess not. Now, if you English girls will take my part I -will take you to the _établissement_ of Madame Marcelle and get you a -hat each at cost price. You will have to pay ever so much less than -the Lady Hébé paid when I flung her chapeaux back into her face." - -"Ah, but didst thou, indeed, little one?" said Agnes Martin. - -Jane Raynor burst into a fit of laughter. All the English girls with -the exception of Dorothy were brought over to Margot in a body and on -the following morning she had a tremendous sale of hats, which she gave -by Madame la Comtesse's express wish to the bevy of English schoolgirls. - -She chose the hats with great care and exquisite taste. Having done -this, she went back to _la belle_ grand'mère and told her that she did -not wish to continue at the school with Lady Dorothy. - -"I like those who are faithful," said Margot. "She is not faithful and -I will have none of her. I will attend in the shop every morning, _ma_ -grandmère, and you and grandpère can teach me in the afternoon until -the happy, happy day when I return to Ireland." - -"And dost thou wish to leave us, _ma petite_?" asked the Comtesse. - -"Ah, _oui, oui_, The Desmond is so very noble," said little Margot. - -"Thou must abide with us thy full time. Thou canst not leave until -September," said _la_ Comtesse. - -Tears filled the little Comtesse's black eyes. - -"I know," she said, "I know. Uncle Jacko will call for me on that day. -Ah, but my heart will rejoice, it will sing! But indeed thou art kind, -_ma belle_ Comtesse, and so is grandpère, but thou hast never seen The -Desmond. I will go to him for three months and come back again to thee -and will serve for a little time each day in the shop, and hearken, -Comtesse, thou wilt get me masters and mistresses next time, for I must -learn--yes, I must learn! I will not be an ignorant Comtesse of France, -and nothing will persuade me to disgrace The Desmond of Desmondstown." - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THOU ART FAITHFUL AND SO ARE MY BEES. - - -"I am going to be your little pupil, grandpère," said Margot, raising -her beautiful eyes to the old man's face. - -"Eh, what," he exclaimed, "eh, what? I thought you were at the school -of Madame la Princesse." - -"I don't like that school, _mon cher_ grandpère. I don't like the girls -there. I want you to teach me, yes, you! You can, you know, you know an -awful lot." - -"I don't know anything, little fledgling," answered grandpère. "What I -did learn, I have forgotten. I am an old man on the brink of eternity. -It is not given to me to teach even one so _douce_ as thou, _mon ange_." - -"But can we not read poetry together?" said Margot. "I know you are -terribly old, grandpère; you are much--much older than The Desmond. -Oh, but The Desmond he is _magnifique_--so big--so tall--so broad, his -beard long and white as the snow! And his hair white as the snow! But -his eyes are somewhat like yours, grandpère, only they don't go in so -deep in his head. Yes, thou art old, _mon_ grandpère, but still thou -canst teach thy little Margot. One hour a day; say it is done!" - -"But what shall I teach, my pretty?" - -"How to talk the beautiful French tongue like thyself. Surely that will -not be _difficile_. It will be to thee nothing, thou learned man; _très -bien_--ah, but I cannot say all the words I want! But _thou_ canst do -it, mon grandpère!" - -"Only for one hour a day, my Margot. But listen! understand! believe! -We must not stay any longer than one hour over the French, _si belle_, -for it would fatigue the old man." - -"After that I will teach thee the Irish language," said Margot, her -eyes sparkling. "I will teach thee, and thou wilt laugh--oh, how thou -wilt laugh!" - -"Thou art a _très bonne petite enfant_," said the old man. "I like to -have thee near me, close to my side. For one hour each day, from two to -three, we will talk that language the most elegant in the wide world, -and after that I will lie back on my pillows of down and thou shalt -tell me things to make me laugh, and laugh again, _ma petite_." - -It was in this way that Margot's new life began. It was a very -busy one and on the whole happy. She was glad to leave the school -of la Princesse, and she greatly liked selling chapeaux and robes -for her _belle_ grand'mère la Comtesse. She was particularly happy -when members of the school of la Princesse de Fleury entered the -_établissement_, looked longingly at the pretty, clever child, and she -had the opportunity of giving them as she expressed it "_the back_." -She had great pride, had this little Comtesse, and when she swept past -Lady Dorothy Duncan and even the other English girls who had tried to -befriend her, she enjoyed herself immensely. She had become in fact a -sort of power in the _établissement_ and never did the francs come in -so quickly and the robes and the chapeaux and the fans and the _gants_ -fly so fast. - -She had a knack of picking out elderly, rich-looking people and -dressing them according to her own taste. Meanwhile she passed utterly -by the inmates of the great school and the other aristocrats, of whom -she took no notice whatsoever. The people whom little Margot attended -to were _bourgeoise_ but they were rich, and Margot was clever enough -to charge them according to their means. In short, things were going so -well, that Madame _la belle_ grand'mère felt it only her duty to give -the child the very best music lessons which Arles could produce. - -The afternoons were sacred to _mon_ grandpère, and in short the little -incident in connection with the school was well-nigh forgotten. Oh, -what a very happy girl was Margot St. Juste! But she little knew that a -cloud was arising in the blue of her sky and that she was not to escape -scot free. - -Hébé Duncan was really engaged to a young nobleman of great -distinction. The marriage was to take place within a very short time. -She had an aunt who lived some distance from Arles who would supply -her with that _dot_ which the Marquis could not possibly raise, and -this aunt came constantly to Arles to see about her niece's robes and -chapeaux for _le mariage_. The fame, the taste of the small dark-eyed -Comtesse had reached the ears of Madame Derode and she was determined -that the little Comtesse and no one else should assist in the choosing -of the marriage garments for young Lady Hébé Duncan. But it is one -thing for man to propose and another thing for God to dispose. The -little Comtesse was exceedingly busy that morning turning a fat, -ill-made Frenchwoman of the farmer class into an elegant lady. - -She was choosing the right robes, the right chapeaux, she was--with a -skill all her own--softening the tints of Madame Vollot. Madame Vollot -hardly knew herself in her chapeaux and her robes. She stood in the -centre of the largest salon, the admired of all beholders. A group of -young girls surrounded her while _la petite_ Comtesse gave her orders -in a firm and resolute voice. - -"You must wear this green, so dark," she said. "_Tiens_, and here -are the very chapeaux for you! Hesitate not, Madame Vollot! You will -look--oh, of the most charming!" - -A little way to the right stood Madame Derode, the Lady Hébé Duncan, -and Dorothy, her sister. _La petite_ Comtesse kept her back to the -group. She was absorbed with Madame Vollot. Just then Madame Marcelle -came up and whispered some words to the little Comtesse. - -The little Comtesse shook her pretty head. - -"_Non, non_," she said, "it cannot be. I have all my time occupied to -the moment. They have offended me and I will not serve them now. See, -behold, when I have done with this _chère Madame_, there are others who -are waiting for me. I cannot give any advice at all to the Ladies Hébé -and Dorothy. You must attend them yourself, Madame Marcelle." - -Madame Marcelle did her best, but the deed was done. Dorothy and Hébé, -accompanied by their aunt, left the _établissement_ with their heads in -the air and a very significant expression on their faces. - -"Behold, I had my way," said little Margot with a smile, and she went -on giving all her skill and knowledge to the wives of the different -farmers, who were so rich and could pay so well. But when they got into -the street, Hébé said a word to her aunt, Madame Derode. - -"I have suffered an insult," said Hébé, "and I wish to repay it." - -"An insult, my dear child!" said Madame. "What do you mean? Who would -dare to insult a bride-elect? Ah, me, I know life and I know men, also. -For thee is perfect happiness, my little Hébé." - -"Nevertheless I have suffered an insult," said Hébé Duncan. "Did you -not observe that ugly little girl, who gave herself such airs and who -only attended to the farmer folk?" - -"You cannot allude to _la petite_ Comtesse?" said Madame Derode. "Why -she is a most beautiful, very young girl!" - -"Nevertheless she has insulted me," said Hébé. "We have plenty of time. -We will not take over long on this business. Aunt Matilda, I want to -drive to the Château St. Juste." - -"Ah, but certainly," said Madame Derode. "Do you know the Comte, Hébé? -He is a very proud old man; he makes but few acquaintances." - -"I shall get to know him," said Hébé. - -"And I," exclaimed Dorothy. - -"Well, have it your own way, my sweet pets. But I hear that he is of -the most delicate. We will not detain him long." - -"Not long," said Hébé, blushing and laughing. - -They arrived in a very few minutes at the château, which was in -exquisite order. Everything new and fresh and, according to Madame -Derode, perfectly lovely, for she was the sort of woman who liked -whiteness and spotlessness and everything in perfect present-day taste. -Her own château was neat, but not to compare with this. She gave a -quick sigh under her breath, but her nieces were too much occupied with -their own affairs to observe it. - -Now it so happened that always in the morning le Comte St. Juste took -what he called his airing. He went out leaning on the arm of his -_garçon_, a young man dressed in the ancient livery of the St. Justes. -He leant heavily on the _garçon's_ arm and went invariably in one -direction, and that was first to examine the thriving rows of beehives -and second the peaches, which were ripening to a lovely golden red on -the high brick wall. The Comte St. Juste used to count the peaches and -rejoice in their fragrance. He was a happy old man--very happy since he -had married his Ninon. It mattered little to him if she had once kept -a shop. She kept one no longer. He could not have married her if that -was the case. They lived oh, so happily on the rich _dot_ which she -had brought with her. She was one in ten thousand, his pretty Ninon, so -young, so gay, and of the taste the most perfect. - -It therefore so happened that when the three ladies drove up in their -automobile to the Château St. Juste, they only found Madame la Comtesse -standing on the front steps and giving directions to one of her -numerous gardeners. - -Madame Derode got out of her car and, introduced herself and her nieces. - -"Ah, but I am in ecstasies to know you, Madame," said the Comtesse, -"but if you do indeed seek my Alphonse, you cannot see him now. He is -at this present moment resting on his couch of down and must not be -disturbed." - -"I know him by appearance," said Lady Dorothy, "and he is not on his -couch of down. He is in the garden yonder; behold, he is talking to a -_garçon_! I go to tell him, to tell him the truth. I will not stand the -sins of your little granddaughter, Madame la Comtesse. She serves in -your _magasin_, and her rudeness is unthinkable. I go to report to M. -le Comte the wicked ways of that ugly child." - -"But--but--I entreat you to stop!" cried the anguished voice of the -little Comtesse. "He knows nothing--nothing at all--oh, it will kill -him, and he with the pride of all the St. Justes in his veins. He -knows not of the _établissement_. _Le petit bébé_ and I, we keep it -from him as a secret the most profound. Do not be so cruel as to injure -him, _chère_ Mademoiselle! You go to the school of my friend, Madame le -Fleury. I recognize your _bijou_ charming face." - -"I will have my revenge," said Dorothy. "I mind not at all the age of -that stupid old man. I see him and I will go." - -"Dorothy, don't--Dorothy, I command thee not to go," said Madame -Derode, but Dorothy cared very little indeed for any such command. She -had light and agile feet and before the unhappy little Comtesse could -prevent her, had rushed into the garden where the peaches and the bees -were, dropped a low curtsey to M. le Comte and then said in a hurried -tone, - -"M'sieur speaks the tongue of England. I am an English girl. My name -is Dorothy Duncan. I am at the school of la Princesse de Fleury. _La -petite_ Comtesse no longer goes to that school." - -The old Comte managed to hold himself very erect. He fixed his eyes on -the pale blue eyes of the English girl. - -"Will you have a peach?" he said. - -"No, I want not your peaches, M. le Comte. But, listen, behold, I want -to tell the very truth. _La petite_ was practically expelled from our -school. We would have nothing to do with her. Think, M. le Comte, -would it be likely? She attends in a shop." - -"In a--in a----" began the old Comte. - -"In the shop of the present Comtesse. It is now known as the -_établissement_ of Madame Marcelle and _la petite_ Comtesse goes there -every day of her life to sell ugly, common things to the wives of -farmers. The shop belongs to La Comtesse and she dreads that you should -know. Ah, but what a buzzing," continued Dorothy at the end of her -sentence. There were innumerable voices; there was the angry tone of -Hébé confirming her sister's words; there was Madame Derode in tears, -for she could not hear to afflict the aged; and there was the Comtesse, -white as a sheet, bending over "_mon adorable_ Alphonse," who had sunk -slowly but surely to the ground in a state of complete unconsciousness. - -Dorothy stood at his back, a little frightened at her own words, -and then she uttered a scream and a shriek, for the celebrated bees -of M. le Comte St. Juste were surrounding her. They were getting -into her hair, they were stinging her neck, her arms, even her lips -and her eyes. She could not get away from them. The old man heard -nothing--nothing at all, and Dorothy rushed out of the garden extremely -sorry for her mean little revenge. - -She was immediately followed by Lady Hébé and Madame Derode. No one -had been stung but Dorothy and she could do nothing but cry out at her -pain. Madame Derode called her a child of the most _méchantes_--of -revenge the most puerile. She said the bees had but done their duty and -when she dropped Dorothy at her school, she said that someone who could -remove the stings had better be sent for, but that _hélas_, for the -rest, she pitied not at all _la pauvre chatte_! - -After some difficulty, the unconscious Comte was brought into the -house. He was feeling particularly weak and the abrupt sayings of -Dorothy caused his heart to stop and then to bound again and then there -came a dizziness and a darkness over him and he knew no more. - -But when he came to himself on his couch of down and the doctor was -bending over him and Ninon was weeping tears on his face, he dimly -recalled what had passed. The doctor administered a restorative and -then went to another room with Madame la Comtesse. - -"Someone has given _le bon mari_ a profound shock," he remarked. - -"It is true; it is quite true," said the Comtesse. "Oh, Dr. Jacqueline, -I must confide in you. Listen and you will know all. Before I met my -beloved husband, I was the well-known Ninon Lecoles and there was not -an _établissement_ like mine in the whole of Arles, but behold! I met -the old man, so gracious, so lonely, so neglected, and I exercised upon -him a little piece of what the English would call the deceit. I told -him of my wealth and he offered me his hand but only on condition that -I would give up the _établissement_ which brought me in the francs -in such multitudes. Monsieur, I pretended to agree, but oh, la! la! -how could I give up my beautiful _établissement_; how could I keep -this château as it is now and give _mon_ Alphonse his comforts? So I -changed the name of the _établissement_ and called it no longer that -of Ninon Lecoles, but the establishment unique of Madame Marcelle. -But it was mine--mine all the time, kind _M. le docteur_. How could I -keep this place going without it? And then when _la petite_ Comtesse -came, she proved to have the gift _extraordinaire_, and she worked in -my _établissement_ and does work there every day and she brings in the -francs as they never came before. But we decided to keep the knowledge -from the old man because he is weak and feeble. Ah, _M. le docteur_, -what am I to do? If I give up my _établissement_, the death of _mon_ -Alphonse will assuredly lie at my door and yet, if I keep it--Oh, -doctor, counsel a wretched woman!" - -"You must keep the _établissement, sans doute_. _Votre mari_ has had a -shock but he will not die. That girl was mean who told him, but I have -just been removing the stings of bees from her and she will be much -swollen and distressed for some days. There is no doubt whatever that -she has got her punishment. Ah, and here comes _la petite_ Comtesse!" - -The little Comtesse stared in some astonishment at the doctor's -motor-car, at _la belle_ grand'mère's tearful face and at the confusion -which seemed to surround the hitherto peaceful place. - -"Oh, grand'mère," she exclaimed. "I have sold three thousand francs -worth of goods for thee this morning. _Oui, très vrai_, with my own -skill I did it! I would not look at Lady Hébé nor at Lady Dorothy, the -ugly stuck-up things that they are. But I attended to the wives of the -farmers and they paid cash down, grand'mère, and they are going to -Paris all three of them in their new chapeaux and robes and fans. Ah, -but I made the stout one look slim and the slim one a little _grosse, -n'est ce pas_? And the whole of them elegant. And Dorothy and Hébé were -fluttering round waiting for my judgment, but grand'mère, I gave it -not. I would not speak to them; they offended me. I gave them my back, -grand'mère." - -"But thou hast injured thy grandpère," said the poor little Comtesse. -"That Dorothy is wicked, and has had her revenge. She found _mon_ -Alphonse in the garden with the peaches and the bees, and she told him -all about thee, _ma petite_. He fell in a swoon, his horror was great, -but the _chères abeilles_ have stung her well." - -"And thou art weeping when I have made three thousand francs for thee," -said little Margot. "I will go straight to grandpère and set him right." - -"Let the little one have her way, she has the genius," said the doctor. - -"You keep away, grand'mère; let me go alone to _mon_ grandpère," said -Margot. And she ran in the direction of the _salon_ with the couch of -down. - -Margot had a very gentle way of speaking, few things put her seriously -out, and she was more pleased than otherwise at grandpère learning the -truth. He was lying very still on his sofa; his face was white and a -tear or two trickled down his withered cheeks. - -"Thou art not like The Desmond, grandpère," said little Margot. "The -Desmond would not mind anything so trifling as a shop." - -"Ah, _ma petite, ma petite_," exclaimed the old Comte, and now he burst -into floods of tears. - -Margot knelt by him and wiped his tears away very gently. - -"That flow of tears will give thee relief," she said. "Thou wilt be -better, ah, better! Let me arrange _pour vous_, grandpère. I like -putting the mighty from their seats. Oh, grandpère, I have such a -beautiful story to tell thee!" - -The old man ceased crying, and looked at the little Comtesse with -wondering eyes. - -"Perhaps it is a lie," he said. - -"Of course," said Margot, "there is a shop--but it is not _thy_ shop. -It belongs to Madame Marcelle." - -"And not to my Ninon--oh, thank the God Almighty!" - -"I help Madame Marcelle a little while I am learning of the French -tongue, _si belle_--that is all. Thou wilt not forbid it. Thy Ninon, -_ma belle_ grand'mère, is crying her eyes out at the thought of -hurting thee, but it was done by those wicked girls. Behold I was -in the _établissement_, and I have got--ah, the taste _magnifique!_ -and the farmers' wives--some very red, some very thin, came in to be -suited with robes. Ah, but they were of the most superb that I did -show them, and I suited the taste of each. I made the fat, red one to -look thin and pale and elegant, ah _oui_, and the thin one I gave her -a good figure and I chose chapeaux the most suitable. And I put into -the pocket of Madame Marcelle three thousand francs this morning. For -they are rich, these wives of farmers, and they pay as they go. But -Dorothy, _la petite chatte_, and Hébé, they came in and they wanted me -to leave my farmers' wives and attend to them. They meant, doubtless, -grandpère, to run up a long bill and keep it going--going--going, so I -said I would have nothing to do with them because I love them not and -I do love the wives of the farmers. Then they were angry and they came -here to see thee, _mon_ grandpère, and behold, Dorothy, she was stung -by thy bees. It served her right, didn't it, grandpère?" - -"Was she stung?" said grandpère. "I offered her a peach, which she -deserved not. I did not know that she was stung. _Mon enfant_, thou art -faithful and so are _mes chères abeilles_." - -"And thou wilt see thy Ninon who weeps outside?" said Margot. - -"Of a verity I will see my Ninon. What care I how many _établissements_ -Madame Marcelle keeps?" - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THUNDER STORM. - - -Margot had been brought up by severe and much-detested Aunt Priscilla, -and by that dearly loved and holy man, Uncle Jacko, to dread a lie -beyond anything in the world. Aunt Priscilla scolded her and told her -of the awful fate of little girls who told lies. Uncle Jacko pursued a -far gentler and more effective way. - -Uncle Jacko's way prevailed. He talked of the holy children who lived -in the New Jerusalem. He talked of the smiling Christ, and God, the -Father, and of the Holy Spirit, who entered into the heart of the -child who tried to be good. He talked very beautifully and little -Margot thought _him_ very beautiful when he did talk on this subject, -and never up to the present moment had she broken her solemn word to -Uncle Jacko that she would at all costs and under every circumstance -keep to the truth. Nevertheless, here was she now, having broken that -solemn word, having made _cher_ grandpère St. Juste imagine that the -_établissement_ was kept by Madame Marcelle and that _la belle_ -grand'mère had nothing whatever to do with it. - -Oh, it was all terrible, notwithstanding grand'mère's passionate kisses -to the little girl, and notwithstanding the fact that Alphonse and his -Ninon were once more priceless treasures each to the other. Margot went -about with a heavy burden on her small heart. She had told grandpère -St. Juste a lie--yes, yes, there was no doubt on the subject. Her -spirits, so happy and high; her animation so fragrant, so delightful to -watch and listen to, seemed more or less to desert her. She used to sob -bitter tears at night in her little cot and long beyond words for the -moment when she might confess all to Uncle Jacko. - -The old grandpère noticed the difference in _la petite_ and much -wondered at it. Ninon, his wife, also noticed it and did her best, -her very best, to keep the knowledge from the eyes of the adorable -Alphonse. Still the fact remained--_la petite_ was not what she was. -She learnt a certain number of lessons from grandpère and enjoyed her -music lessons, which _la belle_ grand'mère supplied her with. And she -worked wonderful changes in the _établissement_ with her beautiful -taste and delightful _chic_ appearance. But still there was the lie, -always the lie, resting on her white little soul. - -On a certain occasion, _la belle_ grand'mère found _la petite_ Comtesse -in floods of tears. - -"What is it, _ma chérie petite_?" she exclaimed. "Oh, _très drôle_, Oh -_ma petite, c'est drôle_, to see the tears flow for no reason!" - -"But there is reason, grand'mère," said little Margot. "I have told a -black, black lie." - -"Thou! _Ce n'est pas possible!_" - -"But I have, _ma_ grand'mère. I did it for thee, because thy trouble -was so great. _Mon_ grandpère, he thinks that the _établissement_ -belongs to Madame Marcelle. I got him to think so and he was contented. -Oh, my heart, it is broken, it is broken! Grand'mère, my heart is -broken in little bits. Canst thou not see?" - -Grand'mère burst into a low sweet laugh, not an angry laugh by any -means, but one that puzzled _la petite_ Margot not a little. - -"Thou hast a genuine worship of the beautiful," she cried. "Thou dost -help Madame Marcelle in her _établissement_. For me, my fears are at -an end. Why dost thou weep, _ma petite_? Oh, _les belles robes et -chapeaux_ that thou dost make the old women buy. No one else could do -it but thee! The beautiful costumes thou dost give them, at the highest -rates. Wherever does the lie come in, _ma petite_?" - -"Oh, _belle_ grand'mère," said little Margot, "thou dost know the shop -is thine." - -"_Mais non, mais non_," cried Ninon, clasping her tiny hands. "The -great _établissement_ at Arles _belongs_ to Madame Marcelle." - -"Then why didst thou cry and get so frightened that day, _ma belle_ -grand'mère?" cried little Margot. - -"It was an attack of the nerves, _ma petite_. Now run out and play, -thou dost want the air. Thou thyself with thy tact did save _mon_ -Alphonse and I am a happy woman again and the _dot_ of my little -one--it grows and grows and grows! Ah, but she makes her own _dot_, -_n'est-ce pas_? Now run out and play; thou didst tell no black lie." - -Margot wondered very much indeed if her grand'mère was right. She was -a little comforted but not altogether. She had a shrewd sense of the -justice of things and went to her almanac to tick off the number of -days which yet remained before Uncle Jacko came to fetch her. - -Now this little French mademoiselle gave herself in her own sweet -independent way a great deal of liberty. She ran whooping and smiling -down the avenue. _La belle_ grand'mère saw her and smiled to herself. - -"It is dreadful to have _la petite_ with a conscience that pricks," -thought grand'mère, "but I think I have soothed her, and to-morrow -morning I will communicate with Madame Marcelle and tell her that a -lie which rests so lightly on the soul of the French madame must be -communicated to little Margot. She must tell little Margot that the -_établissement_ is altogether her own, then _la petite_ will smile -again and feel that she has told no lie. Yes, it can be done--it must -be done! _Mon_ Alphonse notices the cloud on the brow of _la petite_. -It must vanish. She must converse, she must amuse. She must be as of -old, a French _petite_ with the wit of Ireland in her veins. Ah, she is -truly diverting with her little pricked conscience, but I can set that -matter right for her." - -Meanwhile Margot walked along the road thinking very hard indeed and -wondering if _la belle_ grand'mère had told her the truth. It was now -getting to the end of August and in little more than a fortnight she -would be returning to that ancient man of might, The Desmond. Oh, how -happy she would be; how she would nestle in his arms and tell him of -all her sorrows! And on the way to Desmondstown she would confide in -Uncle Jacko. Yes, he would tell her what was right to be done--Uncle -Jacko, who only feared God, but no man that ever lived--Uncle Jacko -with the clear face and soft gentle eyes, who was so unlike Aunt -Priscilla, that woman who was altogether terrible. Ah, but even Uncle -Jacko was not quite so dear to her as was her grandfather, The Desmond. -He and Madam were perfect and so was Uncle Fergus perfect, and as to -the old-youngs--well, she could not help them. They were much nicer -than most of the French people she saw around her. So she skipped and -ran and sang a gay little French song all to herself, but she did not -notice that all the time as she was going further and further away from -the château, a heavy cloud was coming up and obscuring the sky, a cloud -black and cruel as night when it is hopeless--quite hopeless with gloom. - -Pretty little Margot suddenly stopped singing because a great heavy -blob of rain fell on the tip of her little nose. This was immediately -followed by a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder so loud, so -vivid, that it seemed to shake the very ground under her feet. There -was a hedge at the side of the straight French road and Margot took -refuge there, crouching in so as not to get too wet. She had just -managed to effect her object when she heard an unmistakably English -voice saying to her, - -"It's you, Margot St. Juste; I'm your late schoolfellow, Matilda -Raynes. I came out without leave. I put on my best hat, the one you -chose for me. I wanted to go into Arles and to sun myself in the sight -of the French windows of your great shop, Margot. But, behold, look, -the rain, it trickles down, it pours in sheets; my chapeau which you -chose for me will be destroyed. We were all so glad, Margot, when that -horrid Dorothy got stung by the bees of M. le Comte. Oh, but she was -a figure of fun, and she howled and screamed when the doctor came and -removed the stings. Why did you leave us, little Margot? Could a girl -such as Dorothy interfere with you?" - -"Yes, she could, she did!" said little Margot. "I'm not going back to -the school of la Princesse de Fleury any more." - -"Oh, my hat, my hat," sobbed Matilda. "Oh, how it pours--and see the -lightning, it flashes through the raindrops. Oh, let us get further -under this hedge. My beautiful chapeau will be destroyed and it will be -known that I left the grounds without leave." - -"Come," said Margot, getting up in her quick and resolute way. "Never -mind your chapeau, it is not safe to be under a hedge with thunder and -lightning like this. Behold, the lightning may kill you--come, come!" - -"Oh, but I cannot have my beautiful chapeau ruined," said Matilda. - -"Never mind, I'll speak to grand'mère and _perhaps_ we may contrive -another," said Margot. "Come along at once or I must go alone. I don't -mean to be killed for the sake of any chapeau." - -"Don't leave me, don't leave me; that lightning frightens me!" said -Matilda. - -"I must leave you," said Margot, "unless you come with me. You don't -want both your chapeau and yourself to die. Come, quick!" - -Margot pulled her with a strong arm. Matilda found herself forced -to come out into the centre of the road. They had half a mile to -walk through the drenching rain. The poor little chapeau became -like a sponge; both girls were wet to the skin, for the torrents of -rain continued and the lightning still played, played brilliantly, -unceasingly, and the thunder roared with mighty force. At last they -got to the gates of the Château St. Juste, and Margot led her dripping -companion into the well-kept hall. Both grandpère and grand'mère were -waiting in the hall for their little Margot. - -She went swiftly up to them. - -"_Mon_ grandpère must not touch me," she said, "for I am a pool of -water. I met Matilda Raynes--she belongs to the school of la Princesse. -May we go upstairs, grand'mère, and take off our dripping things, and -when the storm gets less may a message be sent to la Princesse, and may -I lend Matilda some of my clothes, grand'mère, until hers are dry? Ah, -_tiens, le chapeau_, it is pulp!" She kicked the offending hat with her -foot. - -A few minutes later, both little girls were lying warm and snug in -Margot's bed. Margot told Matilda that she was nothing but a _bébé_, -but that if she stopped crying she would try to get her another chapeau. - -"It shall be for nothing this time," said Margot. - -"Ah, thou little shop-keeper!" exclaimed Matilda, "thou little adorable -one!" - -"Call me not shop-keeper, please. I am Comtesse St. Juste. Now lie -still and I will get up and dress. Louise, see, has a message been sent -to la Princesse de Fleury?" - -"Ah, _mais oui_, Comtesse!" replied Louise. - -"Then I will dress. I will wear my coral frock, and thou must get a -white frock of mine and undergarments for mademoiselle. _Vite, vite_, -Louise! Mademoiselle wants to get up." - -"I don't. I want to stay here forever," said Matilda, yawning not a -little. - -"Thou lazy one," said Margot, "thou must be returned to the school." - -Louise went out of the room to return with the information that the -bath was hot and ready for both _les petites_. Then the two children -were dressed in Margot's clothes and Matilda flung her arms round -Margot's neck and said, - -"Oh, but behold me of the most miserable! I am English and I do not -like a French school, and I have a stepmother and I love her not, and -my father is harsh and cruel. Will you not pity me, Margot? When the -time comes for you to leave this so-called beautiful country of France, -may I not come, too? I am learning to be a very bad girl at the school -and I was always a bad girl at home, because of my stepmother and my -harsh cruel father. Could you not get me to that castle of yours in -beautiful Ireland? If I lived for even three or four weeks with you I -might turn good, I might indeed." - -"I can't say," replied Margot, "I must think. There, thou art dressed -and my clothes suit thee better than thine own. Hold thy head erect. -See, I will dry thy hair and I will go now, this very minute, and speak -to Madame, _ma belle_ grand'mère, about a chapeau for thee." - -"Ah, yes, yes," said Matilda. "You are noble, Comtesse. I love you, I -could crawl at your feet." - -"But I should not wish it," said Margot. "I hate people that crawl. I -want you to become good, and perhaps, God knows, it may be the right -thing to do. Stay where you are, Matilda, and I will go and speak to -grand'mère." - -She came back in a few minutes with a light dancing step. - -"Grand'mère _est un ange_. She will settle with Madame Marcelle and I -will choose you a chapeau for nothing at all. I know the kind that will -suit you. I can dispose of you in a moment." - -"But, but----" exclaimed Matilda. "Am I not to see you again, sweetest -Margot?" - -"You have got to go back to school this minute. The rain is over and -grandpère's automobile is waiting for you. Madame la Comtesse has -written to Madame la Princesse and you will not be scolded and you will -send back my clothes after they are well washed and ironed. I cannot -tell you anything about Ireland for a long day yet. Go now, Matilda, -and don't grovel, I beg." - -Matilda looked rather startled and slightly frightened. - -Margot danced down to her grandpère. - -"I have missed thee so, _ma petite_," he exclaimed. - -"The girl would have died, grandpère, if I had not rescued her. A flash -of lightning would have taken her up to heaven as Elijah was taken up." - -"I know not that story," said grandpère. - -"Ah, well, grandpère, thou art a little ignorant in some things, but -never mind, I want to ask thee a question." - -"Ask away, my cabbage, my fledgling," said the old man. - -"I want to suppose a bit," said Margot. - -"Suppose away, then, _ma petite_." - -"There was a little girl and she did wrong," said Margot. "It's all -suppose, don't forget that, grandpère." - -"I'm not forgetting," said grandpère. - -"She did wrong, a deep, terrible wrong," continued Margot, "and there -came to her a sorrow which was great, which was severe. Her conscience -pricked her. For behold, understand, she was a Protestant and could -not confide in one of thy Catholic Church. Then it occurred to her -that she might make reparation for her wrong and do something that she -most badly hated, and so set her pricked conscience at rest. Dost thou -think, if she did that thing, that the great God would forgive her, -grandpère?" - -"I am certain of it, _ma petite_. I am as sure as that I am a very -old man and that thou art my best _chérie_. But now, let's talk of -something cheerful. What does it matter to thee, _petite_, how wrong -others are if thou thyself art free?" - -"Nothing at all, grandpère, dear grandpère." - -"Then make me laugh, my little pigeon. Turn to the merry things of -life. We of the French nation are always cheerful. That is why we live -so long. The gloom, it kills us, but the sunshine, behold, it gives -us life. Be my sunshine now, _ma petite_. See, behold, make thy old -grandpère laugh. It is all right and good and as it should be. Ah, my -little one, but I love thee well!" - -"And I love thee, grandpère, but not as well as The Desmond. Thou dost -not mind?" - -"I could kill The Desmond," said grandpère. - -Margot burst into a peal of laughter. - -"Indeed, but thou couldst not," she remarked. "Thou hast not got his -height nor his strength and thou art older. I see the age in thy sunken -eyes. Now I will tell thee a story _très drôle_." - -Little Margot told her story and Madame la Comtesse listened to the -childish laughter and the clear, happy, childish voice, and said to -herself that there never was anybody before quite so sweet as little -Margot. She must get that little conscience to prick no more. - -"There is no time like the present," thought la Comtesse. "The shower -has passed away and the air is fresh and here is the motor car -returning, having conveyed that common English girl back to her school. -I will go this very moment and speak to Madame Marcelle." - -This Madame la Comtesse did, and to such purpose and with such -excellent effect that she did not once upset the nerves of Madame -Marcelle and came home to enjoy the society of her husband and -granddaughter in the best of spirits. - -The next morning Margot went as usual to the _établissement_, but -before she began her accustomed work, Madame Marcelle called her into -her private room and there she told her that she was working for -herself, not for Madame la Comtesse, and that she found _la petite_ -Comtesse so useful that she was going to pay her two hundred francs -a month for every month that she was with her, and that it had been -further arranged that the little Comtesse before she left France for -Ireland was to receive five hundred francs besides, having her _dot_ -put carefully away for her in addition. - -"Ah, but thou wilt be _riche, ma petite_!" said Madame Marcelle, "and -now go and attend to thy duties, for my _magasin_ is like no other in -the whole of Arles." - -Little Margot looked with her firm, clear, very dark eyes full into -the face of Madame Marcelle. It seemed to her that she did not believe -her in the least. Nevertheless, the woman had told her what was beyond -doubt the apparent truth. The little Comtesse attended to her usual -duties, and in the end wrote a letter to Matilda Raynes, telling her -that she would write to her grandfather and, if all went well, would -invite her to spend two or three weeks with her at Desmondstown. - -Margot took a long time in writing her letter, but it was written -at last. She would like to bring a girl, an English girl, back to -Desmondstown; would The Desmond mind? The girl should never interfere -with him, the darling, nor with that dear, dear Madam, but she could -play with Norah and Bridget, and perhaps a little bit with Eileen. She -was unhappy at home, and not very happy at school and would The Desmond -greatly mind? - -The Desmond did not mind at all. He said to Madam: - -"Put the English miss as far away from me as possible. Hand her over to -the care of our young daughters. For me, I await my grandchild. I think -and dream of no one else." - -"It shall be as you wish, Fergus," said Madam. "It is now the 1st of -September. We shall have the little angel with us in less than a week." - -"Ah, the good God be praised!" said The Desmond. "I look not ahead, I -enjoy the present to the very, very utmost." - -"Your little grandchild loves you," said Madam. "We will get her -room neat and beautiful for her, and we will creep in, in the early -morning, and see her asleep." - -"Hand in hand," said The Desmond, looking at his old wife. - -"Yes, Fergus, hand in hand," said Madam. - -They looked at each other with a world of love in their eyes. That love -had never been so strong as since the adorable grandchild had appeared -on the scene. It had nearly killed them to part with her, but she was -coming back again. Their night of weeping was turned into a morning of -joy. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -GEM OF THE OCEAN. - - -There was no doubt on this occasion with regard to the welcome prepared -for little Margot St. Juste. She and her beloved Uncle John and the -_Reparation_, as she called the uninteresting English girl, arrived at -the station nearest to Desmondstown somewhat late at night. - -Matilda was overcome with delight at the thought of her three weeks at -Desmondstown. She begged and implored of Margot to call her Tilly. - -Margot said, "That's not your name in my mind," but when Uncle Jacko -looked at the little girl out of his kind, thoughtful, sweet eyes, she -felt a sudden lump rising in her throat. - -Why should she be unkind to Tilly? - -"I'll call you Till," she said, "only please don't clasp my hand quite -so tight. I'm an Irish girl and this is Ireland, beautiful Ireland." - - - "The first gem of the ocean, - The first pearl of the sea," - - -murmured Uncle Jacko. - -"Yes, that's right," said Margot. "You'll see what it is like in the -morning, Till, and grandfather, the blessed darling, says that you may -stay for three whole weeks. That is, if you are good." - -"Of course I'll be good; I'll be very good indeed," said Tilly. "Anyone -would be good with _la petite_ Comtesse." - -"I'm not _la petite_ Comtesse here," said Margot. "I'm 'pushkeen' here, -and most likely the old-youngs will call you 'nanny-goat.'" - -"Nanny-goat! But I won't be nanny-goat," said Matilda, thoroughly -offended. - -"Well, we'll see, but you can't help yourself." - -"And who are the old-youngs?" asked Tilly. - -"You'll see them also, Till," remarked Margot. "Oh, Uncle Jacko, -darling Uncle Jacko, have we arrived?" - -"We have, _acushla machree, alanna_--heart's best darling," said the -elderly clergyman, clasping the child for one swift moment tightly in -his arms. "Ah, but you are the soul of my soul," he muttered. - -Tilly looked on in amazement. She began to consider all these foolish -words, none of which she could understand, as a certain token that the -Irish were half mad. Still it was glorious to be close to _la petite_ -Comtesse. - -The train drew up at the station in that slow, drawling way in which -Irish trains mostly do in out-of-the-way places, and lo and behold -wherever Margot looked, she saw great bonfires and smiling faces and -there, as large as life, were Phinias Maloney and the wife also of -Phinias Maloney, and their two big "childer" and the infant who one -moment howled, and the next screeched with delight. - -"He really--he really came out of a cabbage leaf," said Margot. "He -wasn't hatched as lots them are here. The old-youngs are hatched so -often they are tired of the job. Oh, I must go and speak to that -darling baby! Uncle Jacko, hold Till's hand, I'll be back in a minute." - -Oh, but weren't the Maloneys glad--just beside themselves with joy--at -the thought of the pushkeen coming back to them again! - -"Ah, then,'tis yez that are welcome!" said Annie Maloney. "Childer, -spake to her beautiful mightiness, drop your curtsies as I taught ye. -There no, hould yezselves back. Ah, then, my push-keen lamb, it's me -that is glad to see ye. It's the heart hunger I had when ye left, -and long life to ye and to Mishter Mansfield, who has turned into a -beautiful gent, for all that he war but a farmer's son. It was me that -thought of the bonfires; do ye see them ablazing to the right of ye and -the left of ye, little missie asthore?" - -"I do, I do! It was lovely of you, Annie," said Margot, and she kissed -the young woman, who whispered to her back somewhat shyly, - -"Is that child to '_himself_'?" - -Margot burst into one of her ringing laughs. - -"Child to my holy Uncle Jacko!" exclaimed Margot. "No, she's -_Reparation_, that's what she is. Don't keep me now, Annie, I'll come -to see you to-morrow or next day." - -Then Phinias, who intended to offer a very nervous paw for the little -girl to shake, but was rewarded by a hearty and most vigorous kiss, -lifted Missie and Reparation into the funny cart. The luggage was -lifted in also and they started off, bump, bump, uphill and down dale, -all the way to Desmondstown. - -Margot was almost too excited to speak. The clergyman walked beside -Phinias and kept talking to him, and each moment the road became ruddy -with more firelight and great shoots of flame rose up and filled the -air, for was not the furze dry and firm and were there not great stacks -of it, and did not gossoons keep putting fresh supplies on, all in -honour of missie asthore, the darling of The Desmond? - -Tilly, in her uncomfortable seat, felt very tired and half dropped -asleep, but Margot suggested that she should sit on one of the bags and -lean her head against Margot's own knee and, then, disgraceful as it -may sound, Tilly did drop asleep. - -But when they came to Desmondstown itself, there was such yelling -and waving and dancing and laughter--laughter so loud and yet so -clear--that even English Tilly could not sleep through it. And behold! -All the old-youngs were waiting at the gate to welcome them, and the -largest bonfires of all were alongside of the avenue, which Tilly -described afterwards to her English friends as a wall of fire. - -"It was done in honour of _us_," she wrote. "They know how to welcome -people properly in Ireland." - -But in addition to the bonfires, great arches had been flung up across -the weedy narrow path, and on these were written the well-known Irish -words, "_Céad míle fáilte_," which seemed to be to right and left of -little Margot; she knew well now the meaning of the generous and noble -words. - -Tilly was wide awake with a vengeance, and the old-youngs, both boys -and girls, ran down the avenue with whoops and cries and "_Céad míle -fáilte_, pushkeen," sounding from their lips. - -At last they reached the old porch and entered by the wide double oak -doors, and there, behold, stood Madam, and Fergus with his grave, -still face, and in the distance The Desmond was to be seen, holding a -lighted torch in his hand. Very erect indeed was The Desmond, and his -beard seemed longer and whiter than ever, and his eyes blacker and more -piercing, and his great stalwart form was like that of a giant. - -Margot flew like a little creature all on wires from Uncle Fergus to -Madam. - -"Madam, darling Madam," she said, "that's the girl, Till. Tell the -young-olds to look after her, for my heart is bursting till I get to -The Desmond." But when she did get to him the torch was extinguished, -and the very tall and majestic old man and the beautiful little girl -entered his special sanctum side by side. - -They were alone, they were together once more. - -Little did Margot think of anyone else in that moment of glad re-union. - -"I said I would come back, and I've come!" she said. "Oh grand-dad, oh, -grand-dad, how lovely you look! You are worth twenty of Monsieur le -Comte, mon grandpère in France." - -"Speak not of him, my child," said The Desmond. "I hate him with a -deadly hate." - -"Oh, no, no!" said little Margot. "He means well and he can't help -being very old and feeble. You see, I had to bring Reparation with me." - -"Whatever does the pushkeen mean now?" said The Desmond. - -"That tall, ungainly English girl," said Margot. "I had to bring her, -she is Reparation." - -"That's as queer a name as ever I heard," said The Desmond. - -"But, grand-dad," said Margot, "you'll have to be getting in a -Reparation on your own account if you speak against _mon_ grandpère of -France." - -"Ah, whist, let him abide," said the old man. "I care nothing so that -I have ye, my push-keen alanna. Ah, but let me look at ye, let me -feast my eyes on your little face! Ah, but ye are my pushkeen alanna! -No doubt on that, and here comes Madam,--here comes 'herself.' Madam, -we've got our child back, we've got our darling back once more!" - -But sweet, dainty little Madam looked disturbed. - -"There's a gurrl that I can't make head or tail of, she's crying out -for you, Margot asthore. I have set my three young daughters in their -bloom upon her, but she won't have naught to do with them. She keeps -screaming and screeching. You had best speak to her for a minute or -two, my little alanna." - -"May I go, grand-dad?" asked Margot. "It's only Reparation. I'll soon -put her right. Madam, stay with grand-dad and pet him awful. I know my -way and I'll smooth down Reparation as quick as a lightning flash. Pet -grand-dad a great lot, Madam, for, oh, he's such a darling!" - -Little Margot whisked out of the room in her French frock and with a -trifle of her French manner. - -"Madam," said the old man, and he lifted up his voice and wept. "I've -lost her entirely, bedad! She's turned Frenchy on me, and what are we -to do with the gurrl she calls Reparation?" - -"She's herself the same as ever she was," said Madam, "sweet and true -and dear. Hold up your head, Fergus, man, and don't shame us with your -tears." - -Meanwhile Margot found her way to that part of the ramshackle old house -where the young-old aunts and the young-old uncles, with the exception -of Fergus, were doing their best with Tilly. - -Tilly was in floods of tears. - -"I want Margot, I want la Comtesse," she exclaimed, "and I don't see -any old-youngs. I only see the aged round me, the very aged. And I hate -the place without la Comtesse." - -"La, to be sure, there's no countess, here," said Norah, "and if we -young things ain't young enough for you, why ye'd best be going. Ye can -sleep in your bit of a bed to-night." - -"Yes, and in the morning I'll drive ye back to the station and put ye -in the thrain, so that ye can get to the place only fit for the likes -of you, and that's England," said Malachi. - -"I'd be ashamed to kick up a fluster in an Irish nobleman's house," -said Bruce, "but you English have no manners, none at all." - -Just then, Margot appeared on the scene. - -"Ah," said Tilly, making a rush at her. - -"I can't, Tilly, I can't, Reparation. I told you so when I invited you -here. I told you that I had to spend all my time with my grand-dad. I'm -ashamed of you, Till, that I am. You'd be frightened to death to sit in -the room with _himself_. He'd let out a yell at you if you sat in the -room with him and cried; you wouldn't do it twice, that I can tell you. -What more can you want than what's provided? Here's Aunt Norah, she's -beautiful and young; and here's Aunt Bride, she's hatched about every -second day; and here's dear Aunt Eileen, and they're all as young as -you, Till. As a matter of fact, their spirits are much, much younger. -And Uncle Bruce and Uncle Malachi are so funny; they'll make you laugh -all to fits. If you want to go home to-morrow, you can. I'm not wanting -you, but you are not to screech in this house." - -"Hello, here comes supper," said Bruce, as a huge joint of cold beef -was brought in, accompanied by a great dish of pickles and an enormous -platter of the very best potatoes, all bursting out of their skins and -showing balls of flour within. - -"Come and eat, Till, that's what you want," said Margot. "I must go -back to grand-dad, but I'll come to you by-and-bye in your room." - -Now the sight of the excellent food was certainly reviving to Matilda -Raynes and when Malachi offered to lead her to the festive board, doing -so with a succession of hops and skips and jumps, she suddenly found -herself bursting into fits of laughter. - -"Are you one of the old-youngs?" she managed to whisper to him. - -"I'm nothing, I'm only Malachi. I breed horses, that's what I do. Would -you like me to mount ye on one to-morrow." - -"I would," said Tilly, her eyes sparkling. - -"Then I will if ye stop that hullabaloo." - -"You'll hold me tight, for I've never rode in my life," said Tilly. - -"Ah, blessings on the girleen, but ye can learn for shure!" - -"Yes, I can learn." - -"I expect you can. Norah, pour out a glass of milk for her. Biddy, -acushla, I'm ready for some of that home-brewed beer. Now then, babies -all, to supper!" - -The supper was so good and the old-young people were so merry that -Tilda forgot her fears. She longed inexpressibly for Margot and for -the refined life of the French school at Arles; but nevertheless there -were never any potatoes like these, and Malachi had such a twinkle in -his eye, and whenever she glanced at Bruce he winked back at her in the -most comforting way. - -Then Norah's and Bridget's mirth was irresistible; in short Tilly began -to enjoy herself, and when by-and-bye Margot crept into the room set -apart for Reparation, in which the young girl was lying sound asleep, -she felt comparatively happy about her. - -Margot was on her way to her own room, the dressing-room of The -Desmond, when she unexpectedly and to her intense joy met her beloved -Uncle Jacko. She stopped him at once. He put his arm round her and -kissed her. - -"Uncle Jacko, you are a holy priest, aren't you?" - -"I'm a clergyman of the Church of England, my dear little girl." - -"Uncle Jacko, I had to bring Tilly here--I didn't want to, but -she--she's Reparation." - -"I don't understand you, my pet." - -"Oh, Uncle Jacko, I hadn't any opportunity to tell you when we were -coming here, and it was a long, a very long journey, and I _was_ tired, -and Tilly was tired, and you were tired, but now, oh, I must tell you -in as few words as possible. Uncle Jacko, your own little Marguerite -told a black, black lie!" - -"You didn't," said Uncle Jacko, starting back as though something -pressed against his heart. - -"I did, it came about in this way. Madame la Comtesse told the Comte -St. Juste that she had given up her enormous _magasin_. She said -she had plenty of money without working any more and the Comte, -_mon_ grandpère, he believed her. But she didn't give it up at all -in reality and she sent me there every day to sell hats and robes -to the customers, and at last some wicked girls in the school that -I went to--they had seen me in the shop--and they went and told -grandpère, _le pauvre_ grandpère--and he fell down in a sort of fit, -and Madame was beside herself. But when he came to, I told him that -the _établissement_ belonged to Madame Marcelle, and he grew happy -again and he forgave _ma pauvre_ grand'mère. Oh, but it was terrible, -for I had told a black, black lie! Then I thought I would repair it -by bringing Tilly here and--I couldn't confess because I'm not a -Catholic--so that seemed the--the only thing to do. Oh, Uncle Jacko, -can you forgive me?" - -"Have you asked God to forgive you, my little child? I am a sinful -man, but He--He is perfect. It was a difficult time for you, my little -Margot, but you must on no account disturb The Desmond. Say nothing to -him about the shop. You have three months to spend with him, and when I -come to fetch you back to Arles, we can talk further on this matter." - -"Oh, Uncle Jacko, you _are_ good--you _are_ good, and you won't cease -to love me?" - -"I shall never do that, my sweet babe." - -"And you will stay here for a couple of days, won't you?" - -"I will stay here till Monday," said the clergyman, "and I will do my -very utmost to make Tilly happy. Now that I understand why she has come -I can manage her. Good-night, sleep well, my little one." - -Margot did sleep well on her soft bed. The big, untidy room had been -changed and altogether altered. Malachi had papered the walls white. -Norah and Bridget had painted the doors a bright emerald green. There -was a little bedstead with white muslin draperies put all ready for the -child to sleep in, and there was a writing table in the window, and a -chest of drawers which had been bought as a bargain by Phinias by the -express orders of Malachi. Then there was a deep cupboard in the wall -in which the dainty and innumerable little French frocks could be hung. - -But when Margot awoke the next morning, flushed with sleep, safe and -happy, little knowing that Madam and The Desmond had been gazing at -her at the dawn of day, she discovered in a deep corner of that same -cupboard an ugly little frock, which had been made for her before she -came to Desmondstown. - -It was a frock made in the ugliest imaginable style by a dressmaker -chosen by Aunt Priscilla. Nevertheless it was the dress she had worn -when first The Desmond had seen his little grandchild. Without a -moment's hesitation she put it on. - -Bruce and Malachi had brought her in a hot bath in one of the famous -washing tubs; and clean and refreshed, she rushed downstairs to kiss -grand-dad. He was in his accustomed place by the great turf fire, -and he stared first at the little frock and then at the happy child. -Suddenly a cloud seemed to lift from his brow. He opened his big arms -wide and folded her into them and said, - -"Ah, but the Almighty be praised! I have got you back again, my bit -thing. I didn't half know you last night dressed up as a Frenchy." - -"I'm an Irishy to-day grand-dad," said Margot with her merry laugh. - -"So you are, my bit mavourneen, so you are, the Lord be praised for all -his mercies!" - -Now Margot had been given by Madame Marcelle on the last day of her -appearance at her _établissement_ five hundred francs, which meant the -solid sum of twenty pounds. And as her grandmother, Madame, paid all -her expenses to England, in fact, beyond England, to Desmondstown, she -had this twenty pounds intact. Her first idea had been to buy pretty -things to take to the old-youngs and to the dear old-olds in Paris, but -an instinct kept her back from doing this and finally she made up her -mind to consult Uncle Fergus on the subject. - -Uncle Fergus was very reliable. He would tell her what the beloved -family at Desmondstown wanted most. - -Matilda Raynes had got over her nervous terrors of the night before, -and enjoyed beyond words playing horses with the old-young aunts. She -was therefore quite off Margot's mind and Margot determined while Uncle -Jacko was talking to The Desmond, to seek an interview with Uncle -Fergus. - -She found him in the great front courtyard. He looked anxious and -even when he saw Margot hardly smiled, but when she ran up to him and -slipped her hand into his, he said, "Presently, pushkeen, presently." - -He then went on giving his orders to the men, but he felt all the -time the soft little warm hand in his as though it were something -unsurpassably delightful. - -"Well, pushkeen," he said at last. - -Pushkeen unfolded her simple story. She had an enormous lot of money, -twenty solid pounds, no less, that she wanted to devote to the dearest -family in the world--the Desmonds. Would Uncle Fergus teach her how to -spend it? There came a flash in the dark eyes of the future Desmond of -Desmondstown. - -"Tell me, little one," he said, "is it true that that Frenchwoman -really keeps a shop? She told John Mansfield and he told me, so you -needn't fear to confide in me." - -"I won't, Uncle Fergus, I won't. Now I'm sure the shop is hers. As you -know so much, you may as well know more. I went every day to sell goods -in it, and that's why I have got my twenty pounds." - -"And you work, while I am idle, little pushkeen," said Fergus Desmond. - -"Oh, I don't mind--I--I like it," said little Margot. - -"But it can't be any longer," said Fergus Desmond. "Put that twenty -pounds into the ground at Desmondstown, pushkeen." - -"Bury it?" said Margot with a look of horror. - -"In a sort of way, bury it," said Fergus. "The old fruit trees are worn -out, we'll buy new ones, you and I, and I'll turn into a real son of -the soil, and the fruit trees will bring forth fruit and we'll sell -them, you and I, pushkeen. It will be a joint concern between us. I'll -do the work and I'll give you so much interest on the money. Now, not -a word to The Desmond, not a word. We'll turn this rich piece of land -into a beautiful thriving fruit garden, and I'll buy the young trees at -once and you'll watch me while I'm making the desert blossom as a rose." - -"Oh, Uncle Fergus, you are splendid!" said the child. - -"Don't you fear but you'll get your money back and more," said Uncle -Fergus. "I'm off to-day to get the young trees. I know where I can get -them cheap." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -THE PINES. - - -Now there dawned an apparently very happy time in the life of little -Margot St. Juste. Her whole heart was full of love, and with love -was also a keen interest for the Desmonds of Desmondstown. Of course -grand-dad, _the_ grand-dad, came first, but next to him was Uncle -Fergus. As they talked together over the trees they were planting, and -the fruit that would come to perfection from the same trees, the little -girl rejoiced at the thought that her small efforts were bringing -comfort and riches to the home of her ancestors. - -In short, whenever she was not with grand-dad, she was with Uncle -Fergus, who threw himself into his work as indeed a son of the -soil. It was amazing to see this fine-looking man digging, delving, -ploughing, arranging. He also got Phinias Maloney to assist him, and -in an incredibly short space of time the brick wall was built and the -tiny trees planted, which were to bring forth such a rich harvest -by-and-bye. Then Margot suggested strawberries and Uncle Fergus made -a strawberry plot. Then she suggested raspberries and gooseberries, to -say nothing of various sorts of roses, little bush roses which would go -on flowering during the greater part of the year. - -Whatever Margot suggested, Fergus obeyed. He had not been so happy -since he had left Old Trinity. Margot called herself his assistant -gardener, and The Desmond came out now and then to watch the pair with -pride. - -"Wherever does the avick get the money, Madam?" he said more than once. - -But Madam would only shake her head and say they might safely leave it -in the hands of Fergus. - -The Desmond happened to make this remark one day at the mid-day meal -and in the presence of Reparation. Reparation was going back to England -in a couple of days now. She dreaded the thought beyond words. What -was grand-dad going to do when he was left to the complete wiles -of the little Comtesse? She dreaded "grand-dad," as she called him -privately to herself, inexpressibly. She wouldn't dare utter a word in -his presence. As to The Desmond, he hardly ever gave the bit colleen a -thought. She was welcome to stay in the old house if she didn't bother -him, but Margot was equally determined that Reparation should go. - -She was not thoroughly happy with her about. As a matter of fact she -was not sure of her. There was a light which she could by no means -admire or trust in the small, light-blue eyes of Tilly of England. In -short, she avoided her as much as possible, but Tilly was completely -taken up with young Aunt Norah and young Aunt Bridget, whom she called -by their Christian names, and said that they looked a lot younger than -herself. - -"I'm fourteen," she said, "but you--you are only kittens!" - -Now nothing could please the Misses Desmond more than to be compared to -kittens, and they petted Tilly when she talked to them in this strain, -and thoroughly believed her. But Tilly had her own object in view. She -did not want to leave Desmondstown, and said that she thought the best -possible thing she could do would be to explain certain matters to -The Desmond. These matters would of course relate to Margot and would -require a great deal of courage. - -Nevertheless she believed she might manage it and as the days flew by -and as the time of her departure approached, so the more strongly did -she make up her mind to the final and great step. - -Now Malachi was a man of his word. For that matter all the Desmonds -were truthful. Malachi had promised to teach Tilly to ride, and he took -her out on a broken-down old mare, a creature so feeble and slow that -the timidest person could not fear when seated on her back. - -Tilly bore with the mare for a few days, but then she became -discontented. She saw Norah and Bridget fly by on thoroughbreds of -rare spirit. They bounded over hedges and gates and ditches, they -seemed to tread the very air. Tilly got jealous of them and also became -exceedingly tired of her slow old mare. - -There happened to be a horse in the stable, a young and exquisite -creature whom Malachi was taking special care of. He was a thoroughbred -from Donegal, and was not yet quite broken in, but every day Malachi -put on a sort of skirt and rode sideways on the spirited and lovely -creature, and gradually brought the horse into training. He obeyed -Malachi's slightest touch. He was of a deep chestnut in tone with a -white star on his forehead. His points were perfect, and Malachi was -teaching him, as he expressed it, "to 'lep' over everything, so that he -might be fit for the hunting when it began." - -One day he brought the horse "Starlight" home covered with foam and -somewhat disturbed in his temper. - -"There now, old boy," said Malachi, "you'll have your feed of the -whitest of white oats, and be ready for another try over that wide -ditch to-morrow." - -Malachi, as was his custom, spoke his words aloud. He was busy all the -time washing down and rubbing the beautiful creature. He then took him -to his stall, and said, "Good old boy, dear old boy! You'll be fit for -that very wide ditch to-morrow. You funked it a bit to-day but you -won't ever again. How then, eat, my mannikin, eat." - -"That's a lovely horse," said Reparation standing at the door. - -Malachi gave a start when he saw the ugly little girl. - -"To be sure he's a jewel, no less," was his instant rejoinder. - -"I'd like well to ride him, Malachi," said Reparation. "I'm tired of -the old mare. She's so slow--she only crawls. I want to fly like Norah -and Bridget and you on Starlight. May I ride Starlight to-morrow, -Malachi?" - -"May you!" exclaimed Malachi. "Do I want to see yourself broken into -little bits? You keep away from this horse. He's not for you." - -"But why not?" asked Tilly, coming into the stable now and approaching -close to the animal. - -"Keep back, if you want to keep your features," said Malachi. "He'll -kick out if he looks at you, as sure as my name is Malachi Desmond." - -"Why should he, Malachi?" but Tilly stepped back a pace or two as she -spoke. "Why shouldn't I ride Starlight? What are you keeping him for? -And you do look such a figure of fun, Malachi, dressed like an old -woman with a skirt over you." - -"I'm training the horse for my niece," said Malachi. "He'll be ready -for her long before she goes back to that place in France, drat it! -There now, you'll never manage more than the mare, Tilly, and I can't -stand talking to you any more. Be off and play with the gurrls. They've -come in from their ride, and I am sure they are willing enough to amuse -you." - -"Take my hand for one minute, Malachi," said Tilly. - -Malachi with extreme unwillingness complied and led the little girl out -of the stables. He shut the door behind Starlight, who was enjoying his -oats and feeling soothed and comfortable. He did not like his training -at all, but afterwards there always came the wash down and the rub down -and the delicious tender white oats, and he couldn't unseat Malachi, -try as he would. - -"Is that beautiful horse really for the shopkeeper?" inquired Tilly. - -"It's for no shopkeeper. What on earth do ye mean? It's for my niece, -the pushkeen; and I've saved up and sent for an elegant habit for her -to Cork. It will arrive any day now. There, I can't talk to ye any -more, ye are so downright foolish." - -"Come and play horses with us, Till," said Norah, who appeared at that -moment. - -As a matter of fact Norah had been standing in the vicinity of -Starlight's stable for the last few minutes, and certain words uttered -by Tilly had aroused her curiosity. - -"Why ever did ye go ballyragging Malachi?" she exclaimed. "He's not a -boy to be put out when he's over the horses. Leave him to himself and -come with me. Biddy and I and the curate, Mr. Flannigan, are going to -have a jolly play." - -"I'm willing to come," said Till. - -"Well, you must be prepared to run, while the others follow. I say, -Till, whatever nonsense did you talk to Malachi about the pushkeen's -horse?" - -"I said it wasn't a horse fit for a shopkeeper," replied Tilly. - -"Well, and whoever said it was? It is for the pushkeen, the sweetest -pet in the world. Why, me old father, he is fit to devour her with -love." - -"For all that she is the shopkeeper," said Tilly. "She keeps a shop at -Arles. She goes to the shop; every day of her life, when there, and -sells things and calls herself _la petite_ Comtesse, and they all buy -from her, more especially the farmers' wives, and she puts on the price -like anything. She's a real, real shopkeeper, but I can't see why she -should get a beautiful horse like Starlight, and I should have nothing -but a stupid old mare who will hardly stir her stumps. You come in, -Norah, flying over every obstacle, and there's that beauty being got -ready for the pushkeen as you call her. But I know what she is--the -shopkeeper of Arles." - -"I don't believe it for a single moment," said Norah, but her pretty -old-young face turned a little white. "Look here, Till," she said. -"You keep that bit of gossip safe in your breast and don't let it out -for the Lord's sake, or there'll be a hue and a cry. There now, you -understand what I mean. There's no sense in it. My word! A daughter of -the Desmonds a shopkeeper! Get out with you and don't be such a fool!" - -"I'm not a fool and I know who I'll tell it to," said Till, who was -now bursting with rage. She had only two more days at delightful -Desmondstown. Little it mattered to her that the house was half bare, -that the food was a trifle coarse. Was there not life in the place, -and nobody scolded, and no one was cross? She did not want to go. She -would get that old man Desmond to let her stay a good bit longer. -Why should Margot, who kept a shop, have everything and she, Matilda -Raynes, have nothing but the use of an old mare? And she must go back, -oh, in a couple of days now, to her dreadful stepmother and her cross, -cross father. But, but she would have her revenge first. She did not -care what happened if only she had her revenge. - -While the old-youngs and Mr. Flannigan and Tilly were playing the -celebrated game of "Puss in the Corner," Malachi, his face all alight -with joy, entered his father's sanctum. - -Little Margot had been helping Fergus with the making of the beautiful -new fruit garden, but her toils were over for the present, and she was -sitting on grand-dad's knee; wrapped up, in short, in grand-dad, as -though she was part of him. Her beautiful soft, jet-black hair made -a vivid contrast to his white beard. She lay back comfortably in his -arms, almost too happy to speak. She felt as though she was indeed part -of him, he belonged to her. She was his very own. - -Madam, as usual, was crocheting in the distant window. No one took much -outward notice of the sweet little Madam, but then she was the very -person whom her sons and daughters, and her old husband adored. And -little Margot loved her, also, although not quite so much as she loved -The Desmond. - -"To be sure, it must be just as you wish, pushkeen," said the old man, -and just at that moment Malachi, with his smiling, handsome face, -entered the room. - -"What are you up to now, Malachi?" said the old man. - -"Starlight is quite broken in for gentle exercise," he said. "I -wouldn't trust him yet for great gaps or ditches, but he'd be safe, -quite safe, for the pushkeen to ride on the highroad, and I'll ride -beside her on Brian the Brave. I've come to tell you this, pushkeen. -The horse is ready, Starlight is ready. I took a good bit out of her -this morning, and your habit has come from Cork, as well as the saddle. -You'll look elegant--that's the only word for it--mounted on Starlight -with me alongside of you. We might go for a ride after dinner. I've -taken some of the nonsense out of Starlight this morning. He'll be as -easy as a bit of silk to manage after we have had our early dinner." - -"To be sure, that's fine news," said The Desmond, "but you must take -precious care of my little treasure, Malachi." - -"To be sure and that I will. You can trust me," said Malachi. "We'll go -soft and easy along the highroad and pushkeen can call and see Annie -Maloney and her childer." - -"Oh, I _would_ like it, grand-dad," said Margot, raising her dear, -bright little face. - -"To be sure you would," said The Desmond. "I suppose the _King of all -the Desmonds_ is a bit stale for me to mount, Malachi." - -"He's a bit old, father, but there's good blood in him still. You sit -easy by the fire with little Madam, and I'll take pushkeen for her -first ride on Starlight alone--we can talk about your riding the _King -of the Desmonds_ later." - -The habit was a very pretty one of dark blue cloth, and there was a -little soft crimson cap with a long tassel for the pushkeen to put over -her jet-black hair. Nothing could be more altogether becoming, and the -child's total absence of fear communicated itself to the high-spirited -horse, who led her bravely up hill and down dale, Malachi riding beside -her on Brian the Brave. - -Oh, never was there anything quite so delightful as that ride to the -little pushkeen, and little, little did she suspect that her happy -days at Desmondstown were coming so quickly to an end. She could dance -by nature and she could ride by nature. What Desmond had ever funked -a horse? And this child surely was a true Desmond, a chip of the old -block. - -[Illustration: Never was there anything quite so delightful as that -ride.--_Page 207._] - -The old-youngs and Mr. Flannigan were enjoying themselves at special -games on the back lawn when little Margot flashed by in her new dark -blue habit with her crimson cap and tassel. She came up quite close to -the gate, but pulled in Starlight at a word from Malachi, and then the -two horses and the man and the girl disappeared up the highroad. - -"Isn't she a purty little thing?" said Flannigan. - -Tilly felt a sense of madness coming over her. Now was her -opportunity--now--now or never. She slipped away from the old-youngs -and softly unhasping the door of The Desmond's sanctum entered and -stood before him, her hands folded, her heart beating fast. - -The Desmond was gently going off into the land of dreams and Madam was -motioning to Till to leave the room, but Till's chance had come and she -would not lose it. - -"I want to speak," she said. "I want to speak to The Desmond. I won't -keep him long. He can grant my request and then nothing need be done, -or he can refuse it and then, behold, consider the fruit trees of all -sorts, the strawberry beds, the raspberry canes, the roses!" - -"Who is talking, who is bothering me entirely?" exclaimed The Desmond. - -"I don't want to bother you, sir," said Tilly, although she had such a -queer trembling in her limbs that she never exactly knew the meaning of -gooseflesh before. - -"Oh you are Till Raynes," said the old man. "I couldn't get at the back -of your name for a minute. What do ye want, alanna? I'm sleepy and I -want to doze. I want to doze while my pushkeen is out." - -"Oh, do you indeed?" said Tilly, who, as is often the case, got less -nervous as the time went on. - -The old man raised his jet-black eyes and looked at the girl. - -"What do ye want, young English miss?" he said. He looked very severe -and very stately. - -Tilly's voice began to choke a little. - -"You are The Desmond," she said. - -"I'm that, who doubts it?" - -"I don't, sir; only you, you frighten me a bit, and I don't like to see -you deceived." - -"Arrah, then, get out of this!" said The Desmond. "Play with the young -gurrls and don't keep botherin' me." - -"I will, in one minute; I will, really, only I have something dreadful -to tell you." - -"Not about my pushkeen? God Almighty help us, not about my pushkeen!" - -"Listen to me, sir," said Tilly. "May I stay here as long as your -pushkeen stays, and may I ride Starlight every second day? If you say -yes to those two things sir, everything will be right and you'll never, -never _know_." - -The Desmond rose slowly and ponderously from his chair. - -"What are ye after at all, colleen?" he said. "The pushkeen herself -says ye are to go in two days and her wishes are to be first considered -in this house." - -"Oh, are they?" said Tilly, her face almost black with rage, "then I'll -tell--I'll tell!" - -"You'll tell nothing, Tilly Raynes," said Madam, coming up in her soft -and sweet way; and, taking the girl out of the room, she closed the -door between her and The Desmond. "Now you behave yourself while you -are here," she said. "Himself is not to be worried. You understand that -clear and cool. Go back and play with my daughters. You can't hurt our -pushkeen nor The Desmond himself for all your trying." - -Tilly was terribly disappointed. What with the ferocity of The Desmond -and the calm, cool firmness of Madam, she had not a chance to get -out those hateful words, but she would punish pushkeen yet, yes she -would. She did not go back to join the others but sitting in the porch, -thought and thought out her system of revenge. Presently came the -sound of horses' feet tramping down the avenue. - -Little Margot leaped to the ground as light as a feather, a groom -sprang into view and Margot went straight up to Tilly. - -"Why aren't you with the others?" she said. "Oh, I have had a glorious -ride!" - -"You are a nasty, mean, deceitful thing," said Tilly. "They would have -kept me on here but for you, and I just downright hate you." - -"Oh, Tilly, you oughtn't," said Margot. "What have I done to you?" - -"Done! You've done enough in all conscience. You get everything, I -get nothing; and when I went and spoke to The Desmond about staying -a little longer, he said you didn't wish it--you, forsooth! I must -ride that doddering old mare, and you must have that beautiful horse -Starlight. You must have everything and I must have nothing. But I'll -revenge myself on you yet, see if I don't!" - -"I'm sorry, Tilly," said Margot, in her sweet voice, "but I do think -you ought to go back home on Thursday. You have been with us for three -weeks and we have all tried to give you a good time." - -"You haven't, so don't think it," said Tilly. - -"Well, I did my best. I told you I should have to spend most of the -time with my grand-dad, and the people and the place here do belong to -me, Tilly, and they don't to you. I'm very, very sorry, but I do think -you ought to go home. I wouldn't say it, indeed I wouldn't, if I didn't -most truly think it. You'll have been here three weeks on Thursday, and -that's a good long time, Tilly, now isn't it?" - -"I'll have my revenge, I vow I will," said Tilly. - -"I don't know what you can do, but you must just act as you please," -said Margot in a very sad voice. "I did want to make you happy, I did -most truly, but what was I to do? You wouldn't be happy, try as I -would. You can't ride like a Desmond; it isn't in you." - -"Little shopkeeper, don't talk any more," said Tilly, and she dashed -out of sight, crying as she went. - -How it so happened that while Matilda Raynes was planning out her -revenge with a certain amount of skill, little Margot had taken off her -habit and was seated in her favourite place on her grandfather's knee. -He told her a little about the troublesome girl, and Margot begged of -him not to mind, for it was only her way and she was soon going. - -"Thank the Lord for that," said The Desmond. "I'd have let her stay, -but you put your own big foot down, pushkeen." - -"Oh, yes, grand-dad, it is time she went home. I'm sorry for her, -rather, but she's not--not very nice, I mean." - -"She's not nice at all," said The Desmond. "She's a common little brat. -What sort of school was that they sent you to, light of my eyes? How -did you come by her sort entirely?" - -"I couldn't help it, grand-dad; she was at the school. Shall I tell you -about my ride on Starlight?" - -"Yes, do, to be sure. It's real pretty, to hear your sweet voice." - -So Margot talked and the old man asked questions. He asked innumerable -questions and Margot showed that she was a true Desmond by her replies. -Meanwhile Tilly, her heart set on revenge, was creeping nearer and -nearer to the stables and the beautiful new loose box which had all -been arranged for the comfort of Starlight. There, in a certain corner -hung the new saddle, which had just arrived from Cork. - -Malachi was having a gentle snooze in a corner of the stall, but he -was fond of calling himself a cat who invariably slept with one eye -open. Tilly had not the least idea that he was there, but he saw her -all the time. She thought herself quite alone with the exception of -Starlight and the new saddle. She did not guess even for a moment that -Malachi had opened that one eye of his very wide; in fact, that he -had opened both eyes. Tilly produced out of her pocket a pincushion, -which contained pins of different sorts and degrees. These she cleverly -inserted in the lining of the new saddle. - -Malachi watched her, his eyes twinkling. She put the saddle back in -its place, but did not do it well, for the saddle fell. Nevertheless, -Malachi did not stir. Tilly now rushed out of the stable. Her revenge -was in sure progress of beginning and acting well. When she was quite -out of sight, Malachi rose, picked up the saddle, which was bristling -with pins, and removed all of them except one. This he left in, placing -it carefully and with skill in such a position that whoever rode on -Starlight would drive the obnoxious pin a little way into the animal's -hide. He very carefully folded up the rest of the pins in a piece of -paper, slipped them into his vest pocket and entered the house. During -the whole of that evening he was in the highest spirits and laid -himself out to entertain Tilly. - -The next morning he went to his father and said that as this was the -very last day that Tilly Raynes would spend with them she might as -well have a little bit of a ride on Starlight. His face was all over -twinkles as he made the request. - -"It won't do the beastie any harm," he said, "and pushkeen will lend -Tilly her habit." - -"Of course I will," said pushkeen, who was feeling a little bad at -Tilly's cruel words. - -Accordingly, at breakfast time, Malachi turned to Tilly, told her that -he had been considering matters, and did not see why she should not -ride quite as well as the pushkeen, and if she liked he would take her -out that morning on the pushkeen's thoroughbred, the pushkeen lending -her her habit and he riding beside her on Brian the Brave. - -"Oh, but, but will you really!" exclaimed Tilly, then she remembered -the pins and became very grave and distrait. - -"Please, Malachi," said Tilly, "may I run round to the stables first? I -want to look at Starlight before I mount him." - -"And what would ail ye not to?" said Malachi. - -Tilly rushed as fast as she could to the stables, entered the one -containing Starlight and taking down the new side-saddle began to -search for the pins, but Malachi had been too clever for Till, for he -had placed the one pin in such a way that it would soon begin to annoy -Starlight and in such a position that Tilly could not find it. - -She came back to the house in the highest spirits for her ride. Someone -had removed the pins; she was quite safe. She would show the Irish -Margot what riding really meant. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -STARLIGHT AND TILLY. - - -Tilly felt very proud of herself when she put on Margot's smart little -dark-blue habit, and although the crimson cap certainly did not look as -well on her nondescript sort of hair as it had done on Margot's, she -imagined that it did, which comes after all to the same thing. - -Malachi was in the best of spirits, his face was all twinkles and light -and laughter. His sisters accompanied him as he brought Starlight and -Brian the Brave round to the mounting block. - -"You are kind, you _are_ kind," said Tilly, trying to show some of her -gratitude in her face. - -"Ah, to be sure, why wouldn't I?" said Malachi. "Here, spring up, -missie, you must be quick, for he's a thoroughbred, remember, he's not -like the old mare, but when we get him right under way and you show no -fear, which of course you haven't got, we'll have a fine spin together -on the King's highroad." - -Matilda felt altogether uplifted, as she expressed it. The awful pins -had been in some mysterious way removed. Who had done it? One of the -grooms, she supposed, and yet there was malicious laughter in Malachi's -bright dark eyes. - -"Now then, no time to lose," he said. "Stand back, gurrls, both of -you, you'll have your rides this afternoon, but it is fair enough that -missie should have her turn on this her last day and she so brave--my -word, so wonderful brave! Now then, put your foot on my hand, stand on -this block and spring." - -Tilly, very much excited because of the new habit, highly pleased at -having got the victory, feeling quite sure that she could outdo Margot -in the art of riding, sprang into her saddle in her somewhat awkward -fashion. - -Starlight looked askance with almost a wicked look in his eye at the -creature on his back. Notwithstanding the habit and the red cap, she -was not Margot. She did not know how to sit on him comfortably. He -began to feel a sense of annoyance and a great desire to get rid of -her, but Malachi whistled to him softly, somewhat as a thrush whistles -to her young. Ah, well, he understood _that_ note. He settled down to -endure and do his best. - -He thought, in his dear horsey mind, how very easily he could pitch -the thing that he didn't like off his back and get rid of her forever -when they reached the wide ditch. He did not object to trying the wide -ditch this morning, anything to get rid of the thing on his back. - -Tilly, for a moment, felt inclined to scream. - -"Don't let out any noise for the Lord's sake," said Malachi. "You'll -set him off if you do and when he does go, it is like a lightning -flash, I can tell you. You say you are brave, prove it! Ah, that's -better. Hold yourself erect, but for the Lord's sake don't keep the -reins so tight. You don't want to strangle the creature. Sit easy, -for Heaven's sake, just as though you were part of Starlight and he -was part of you. That's the way to ride. That's the way pushkeen rode -yesterday." - -They had passed the tumble-down gate by this time and Tilly had partly -recovered her courage. - -"I can ride better than la Comtesse," she said. "I have had far more -experience." - -"Have ye now? Ye weren't born a Desmond, by any chance?" - -"No, I'm a Raynes. The Rayneses are----" - -"You needn't tell me," said Malachi. "They are the finest family in -the whole of England. They can skim the air on a horse's back like a -bit of a bird. Once you put'em on, you can't get'em off. Those are the -Rayneses for you. I know the breed, otherwise I wouldn't have mounted -you on pushkeen's thoroughbred." - -"Why do you call her pushkeen? It is a very ugly name. She's nothing -whatever but a little French shopgirl. I told you so my own self, -Malachi." - -"Did ye now? Well, ye see I wasn't listening. I never listen to -untruths." - -"But this isn't an untruth. Oh, my, Malachi--I'm--I'm frightened!" - -"Whatever are ye frightened about, Miss Raynes of England? Maybe as you -are so uncommon brave, we might try a bit of cross-country riding. Why -there you are again, jumping like anything. Whatever has come to ye? It -seems to me you are a sort of cuckoo in the nest of the Rayneses." - -"I'm not, indeed I'm not. But he does jump so. See, look for yourself. -Oh, please, Malachi, hold him. He doesn't like me; he's got a wicked -sort of spirit in him." - -"Maybe his saddle isn't easy," said Malachi. "You sit still and I'll -settle it. For the Lord's sake don't let him think you are afraid of -him or you are done, done black and blue." - -Malachi slipped off Brian the Brave and without in the least disturbing -Tilly managed to push the pin a little further out so that it might -work a surer and a graver mischief. - -"Now we are all right," he said, jumping on his own gallant steed. "Go -it Starlight, old boy, why it's one of the Rayneses you have got on -your back. Think of that, Starlight, old chap!" - -Starlight certainly did think of it and thought of it with growing -passion and indignation. The pin had now thoroughly worked its way -through his satiny hide and he was altogether beside himself with rage. - -Just then an old-fashioned lumbering motor car came by. This was the -finish to Starlight. He reared upright, bolt upright in the air, shook -Tilly off him as though she was a fly, left her sitting on the road -and immediately relieved from his burden began to munch some delicious -green grass from the roadside. - -"I'm killed, Malachi, I'm killed," sobbed Tilly. - -"Well, to be sure, are you now?" said Malachi. "I'm thinking perhaps -'twas a pin. I don't think you are killed, but you might have been if I -hadn't let you down soft. I took all the pins out, I thought." - -"What pins?" said Tilly, turning very white. - -"What pins! Oh, but ye are a nasty little beggar; didn't I watch you -when ye were sticking them all over the inside of the saddle yesterday? -Ye didn't guess I was having a snooze in the loose box. I often sleep -there when I'm partial to the beasts. Well, to be sure, I put the pins -in a packet. Here they are, you can look at them. How many do you -reckon you put in?" - -"I don't remember--oh, none! Don't scold me, Malachi!" - -"Don't scold ye, ye little liar!" - -"Malachi, I tell you I am dying, I am going to faint, I know I am." - -"Well, faint away, colleen, it doesn't matter to me!" - -This remarkable announcement on the part of Malachi had also a -remarkable effect in restoring Tilly's nerves. It was no use to faint -if nobody cared. How dreadful Tilly felt, how sore and bruised and -broken. - -Malachi led the two horses to the nearest tree, and fastened them there -with a piece of rope, which he always kept handy in his pocket. He then -proceeded to unfasten Starlight's saddle and to remove the obnoxious -pin. It was a black pin, deep and strong, and it had already made a -decided mark on the satin coat of the lovely horse. - -"Now how came _this_ here, to be sure?" said he, going over to Tilly. -"I must have missed this, to be sure I did. And here are the others. -We will put them all together. Ten pins. Upon my word, it's a goodly -number. I want you to make a present of 'em, Tilly." - -"A present?" answered the girl, raising her white and terrified face. - -"Yes, to be sure, a present to The Desmond, and you are to tell him -why you put them in, and you are to do it at dinner to-day with the -pushkeen looking at you. You are not hurt a bit, no, not a bit. You are -shook up, whereas you deserved to die, and you may be thankful you are -let off so easy. I'm thinking that after you have told the true story -of the pins, the story of the shop will go in one ear and out of the -other, so far as The Desmond is concerned. The Rayneses may be fine -riders--I'm not taking from their merits, not I--but they are black big -liars, too, that I can swear by. Now then, get up, I'll mount ye on -Starlight. He'll go as easy as a lamb now that that black horror isn't -pricking him to death. We'll just get back in time for lunch." - -"Oh, Malachi, I--I can't mount that horse again. He fairly terrifies -me, and as to that story you want me to tell about the pins, do you -think I'd disgrace myself before your father, and me so frightened of -him?" - -"Very well, Tilly, you can keep silent and I'll tell. But he's got to -know." - -"It isn't true, it isn't true," wailed Tilly. - -"Whist, for the Lord's sake, don't let out any more black ones. Did ye -ever see a cat asleep?" - -"Why, yes, Malachi, I suppose I have." - -"Have you got a cat at your home?" - -"Yes, my stepmother has a cat." - -"Well, you watch it the next time it dozes, then you'll learn once and -forever how a cat sleeps, with one eye half open, never more, never -less. Well that eye is on, we'll call it the alert, for mice or birds -or any kind of prey. I was lying like the cat, with my one eye open, -when I saw you come along. Soon, from being half opened, it was whole -opened, and the other eye was opened, too, and I saw ye sticking in the -pins. So ye can't get out of it, Tilly Raynes from England. Very badly -ye did your job, very badly, entirely, but when ye left the stables, I -crept out all choking with laughter and I thought I'd punish ye after -all. I took out nine of the pins altogether, for one properly managed -could do the job better than your ten, anyhow. Then I palavered ye a -bit and got ye to ride on Starlight. I meant it as a punishment and the -punishment will end when ye have confessed the truth, the whole truth, -and nothing but the truth to The Desmond and made him a present of the -ten pins. You thought you'd kill his pushkeen because you were mad with -jealousy. Well, now you have just got to do what I say and no bones -about it whatsomdever!" - -"Oh, Malachi, oh, Malachi, I can't." - -"But I say ye can! I'll keep the pins till the minute arrives, and as -ye won't mount Starlight, I must walk the two horses home. We are a -good bit out and we'd best start at once. You keep in front of me, for -I'm not going to lose sight of ye, not for a moment. Now, then, Till -Raynes of England, march is the word!" - -It was a very miserable, draggled little girl, with a white face -considerably scratched from her fall, who arrived at Desmondstown just -as the stable clock struck one. Malachi gave the horses over to his own -special groom and followed Tilly to her bedroom. - -"I'll be standing outside the door waiting for you," he said. "Go in -and take off the habit and wash that scratch off your face, for it -ain't pretty, to say the least of it." - -"Oh, but please, I don't want any lunch," said Tilly. - -"You'll come down and take your place at the table. It don't matter in -the least whether ye eat or not." - -Tilly felt herself sore and beaten and bruised. She had met her master -in Malachi and could not get rid of him. In the end she put on a neat -white frock and went downstairs and took her place at the long table. -There was a huge sirloin of beef, and new potatoes and peas, and -quantities of raspberries and cream on the sideboard. Altogether it -was a refreshing and tempting repast and not one she was likely to get -in her own poor home. - -Malachi deliberately seated himself beside her. He pretended to be very -attentive to her. Margot was openly affectionate and asked eagerly how -she had enjoyed her ride. - -"Oh, to be sure, she is a wonder, no less," said Malachi, "but don't -bother her with talking too much till she has got a little food inside -her. I didn't know she was one of those celebrated Rayneses. Why they -can ride a bear, a bull, a cow, anything! She let it all out to me -to-day when she was scampering so gaily on Starlight." - -"I never heard of any Raynes who could ride," said The Desmond. - -"You've got an ugly scratch on your cheek," said Norah. "How did ye -come by that, Till?" - -"Didn't I say, let her eat her meal in quiet!" said Malachi. "A gurrl, -even though she is a Raynes, can't take it out of a thoroughbred when -he's as fresh as Starlight was this morning. Now eat, Till, eat." - -He piled her plate with provisions and The Desmond did not trouble -himself to look at her again. - -"You're a good, a very good little girl," said Malachi. "You're a true -Raynes, that is what you are. Now, swallow these peas and get ready -for the raspberries and cream." - -Margot looked on in a puzzled way. She felt sure that there was -something behind the scenes which she would know about later on. -Malachi never put on that kind of look for nothing. At last the meal -came to an end, and just at its close Mr. Flannigan appeared on the -scene. - -"Who's for Puss-in-the-Corner?" he said, glancing from one young-old -aunt to another. - -"We'll have a rare game; it's a fine afternoon," said Bride. - -"Help yourself to some more raspberries, Flannigan," said Malachi, "and -there's the cream jug by you. Pour it on plentiful, for there's a bit -of a lark coming on, man. Till and me, _we_ know all about it, don't -we, Till?" - -Matilda had in reality hardly touched her dinner. She felt her head in -a whirl and her limbs aching. The strangely fierce appearance of The -Desmond at the head of the board terrified her beyond speaking. - -"Now, we'll soon get it over," said Malachi. "Here you are, Till, -shaking a bit, well, I'll take your little hand. Come along, you know -old Malachi well enough by this time." - -"I can't--I won't--I can't!" sobbed Tilly. - -"For the Lord's sake don't have that girl howling in my presence," said -The Desmond. - -"She's not howling really, father. She's only bringing you a little -present. She's taken a mighty fancy to you, dad, and she wants to give -you this little parcel with her humble respects." - -"I don't mind taking presents if they are properly earned and -suitable," said The Desmond. "What's the matter with ye, colleen? I'm -not a bear or a lion." - -"To be sure no, dad, ye are the finest man in Kerry." - -By this time Malachi and Tilly were standing by The Desmond's chair. -Tilly thrust the little packet of pins into the old man's hands and -then tried to escape, but she was surrounded on all sides, and finally -it was Mr. Flannigan who brought her back to stand by The Desmond's -side and watch his face as he opened the paper which contained the -strange gift. - -"Pins!" he exclaimed. "By the mighty archangels, pins! What do I want -with them, colleen?" - -"Tell the story," said Malachi, who was watching her. - -"I won't--I can't--I can't!" sobbed Tilly. - -"Then I will," said Malachi. "I have given you every chance, and I -can't do more, but The Desmond shall know and you shall stand by and -look at him as he hears those black wicked lies of yours--no less----" - -Whereupon Malachi proceeded to enlighten his old father with regard -to the pins which Tilly had inserted in the thick deep lining of -Starlight's saddle. - -He told his story with great verve and passion and made far more of it -than Tilly herself would have done. He did not conceal the motive for -a moment. He did not attempt to shield the naughty and unhappy girl. -Towards the end of the narrative, The Desmond stood up. It was very -awful when The Desmond stood up. He looked so much bigger than anyone -else, and so much fiercer. His black eyes seemed to eat through Tilly. -The fire in them seemed to burn into her. - -"You _go_," he said, "not to-morrow, but _to-day_! This clergyman, Mr. -Flannigan, will see you into the train. I'll give him sufficient money -to get you out of the house. You are a bad, wicked, deceitful girl. You -wanted to kill my heart's treasure! Now, leave the room, and let me -never see your face again! As to these pins they bring a curse on you, -otherwise they are harmless. You _go_! Flannigan, will you see her off -and put her into the train? Nay, it would be safer to put her on board -the ship. I didn't think there was such wickedness anywhere in the -world, but I'm learning in my old age; yes, God help me, I'm learning -in my old age. Pack your own things and _go_!" - -Tilly turned and went like a half-drowned kitten out of the room. She -was met, however, in the passage by Margot. Margot's beautiful black -eyes were brimful of tears. - -"Oh, Tilly, Tilly," she exclaimed, "did you really want to kill me?" - -"I--I--I think I did," said Tilly. "I hated you, Margot, and I--I hate -you now." - -"Anyhow I'm going to help you to pack, poor Tilly. It's an awful thing -to hate, and why should you hate one who never hated you?" - -"Don't you hate me after this?" said Tilly in bewilderment. - -"Oh, no, indeed; no, I love you because you are so miserable." - -Suddenly Tilly found quite a different order of tears filling her eyes. -Margot swept her dear, little round arms about her and took her quickly -upstairs and packed for her because she was incapable of packing for -herself. - -Phinias Maloney's funny old cart was summoned and Tilly and her -belongings were packed into it, but the last thing she remembered of -Desmondstown was the sweet face of little Margot, who kissed her hand -to her, and whose eyes were brimful of tears as she watched her drive -away. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -I CANNOT TALK PARLEY-VOUS. - - -If ever there was a girl who was furious in her own mind it was Matilda -Raynes. She had enjoyed her life at Desmondstown. Little did she -care for the rough and tumble-down old house, the food was good, the -young-old aunts were jolly of the jolly. Malachi and Bruce were great -fun. Ah no, however, Malachi was _not_ great fun! She used to think he -was, but she found out her mistake. For a man to sleep with one eye -open like a cat, for a man deliberately to get her into a hole, for a -man deliberately to betray her and force her to tell her horrible mean -little story--oh, no, she could not like Malachi any more. - -She also dreaded The Desmond inexpressibly, but perhaps of all the -happy Irish folks the one she disliked most was that sweet, loving, -forgiving _la petite_ Comtesse. How dared she be loving and forgiving? -If she had fought her, Tilly would have known what to do, but she did -not. She was only gentle and a little sad, in fact very sad; and they -all, every one of them, made such a fuss about her and she was no real -Comtesse at all. She was nothing but a little stupid shopgirl. How in -the wide, wide world was Tilly ever to bear with her again? - -Mr. Flannigan sat very still by her side. She wished heartily that -she might have travelled alone to Rosslare. She did not wish for Mr. -Flannigan, he seemed to have no fun in him and he looked from time to -time with a sort of horror at Tilly. - -When they first got into the railway carriage it was crowded, but by -slow degrees the passengers got out. They were going, some in one -direction, some in another, until at last Tilly and Mr. Flannigan found -themselves alone. Then Mr. Flannigan turned his decidedly ungainly -back upon Tilly, and having secured that day's copy of the Cork -_Constitution_ began to read. He would do anything under the sun for -the Desmonds, but he disliked this job with regard to Tilly. - -At last she could bear his silence and his gravity no longer. She -sprang from her seat in the opposite corner and came and sat facing him. - -"How soon shall we get to Rosslare?" she asked. - -Mr. Flannigan very slowly dropped his newspaper, looked fixedly at -Tilly and then said in a solemn, very sombre voice, - -"I'm not tellin' ye, for I don't know." - -"Oh, Mr. Flannigan," said Tilly, with a choking sound in her throat. -"Are you hating me as much as the others?" - -"I'm not lovin' ye at the present moment," said Flannigan. - -He resumed his paper, reading it with such apparent zeal that Tilly -might as well not exist. She felt more furious than ever. She began to -sob, she sobbed very loud. Flannigan took no notice whatever of the -noise she was making for some time, but when it became unbearable he -said, - -"For the Lord's sake don't slobber, girl!" - -"What's slobber?" asked Tilly, who pretended not to be acquainted -with the word, and who wanted at any cost to get Mr. Flannigan into -conversation, but the clergyman did not reply. He was buried again in -his newspaper. - -Tilly's sobs, which she thought so affecting, but which the old -clergyman called "slobber," grew fainter for lack of nutriment. - -By-and-bye they reached Rosslare, where a rather small boat was going -to cross over to Fishguard. - -"Ye'll have a rough crossing, I'm thinkin'," said Flannigan. "The waves -look dirty, to be sure. Ye'd best go and lie down. I'll see ye to your -cabin and then say good-bye. There's a return train, which will take -me back to Desmondstown in time for supper." - -"Oh, oh, Mr. Flannigan," sobbed Tilly. "You don't believe all these bad -things of me?" - -"And why shouldn't I? There was the ten pins as large as life. Didn't I -count 'em when The Desmond was tellin' ye to begone?" - -"But you do know, you must know, Mr. Flannigan, that _she_ is only a -shopkeeper----" - -"_She!_ I'm not acquainted with your meaning." - -"It's that horrid Margot," said Tilly. "Have I not bought hats from her -and robes from her at Arles, and don't I know what she really and truly -is like?" - -"Oh, do ye? I'm thinkin' ye don't. I'll be wishin' ye a good day now, -Miss Tilly. Don't ye try pins on horses again when there are cats -about." - -"It was a horrid mean thing to do," said Tilly. "Anyone else would have -called out, but he's too mean." - -"Don't ye be runnin' down Malachi," exclaimed Flannigan. "Ye wanted -to kill or injure the darling of the place. I'm thinking one of your -stories is about as true as the other. Good day to ye now, I'm off!" He -gave a queer, awkward nod and disappeared up the companion and along -the deck until he reached the gangway. - -Tilly thought herself quite the most miserable girl in all the world, -but still she might have her revenge yet. If she tried very, very, -_very_ hard, if The Desmond did not believe in the story of the shop, -at least M. le Comte St. Juste would. It would be her business to get -things in train and make things very hard for the little Comtesse -against her return to Arles. - -Tilly Raynes had a horrible crossing. The boat was small, the sea was -rough. She hated all physical discomforts. She cried to the stewardess -and begged of her to stay with her, assuring her that she was a very -ill-used little girl and had no right to be going in that ricketty old -boat at all. - -"Well you are in it," said the stewardess, "and if God is merciful we -_may_ yet reach dry land." - -"What do you mean--what do you mean?" said Tilly, forgetting her terror -and hatred of the Desmonds, in the nearer and possible terror of -imminent death. - -"What I say," replied the stewardess. "We are like as not to see Davy -Jones to-night." - -"Whoever is Davy Jones?" asked Tilly. - -"He's the king of the bottom of the sea. They who sup with him, sup -once and never again. Now don't keep me, little gurrl, see there's a -poor lady like to faint in the far saloon from here. You are a bit of -a coward, I take it, and I can't stay comforting cowards when there's -real illness and real danger." - -Then Matilda, somehow or other, forgot her deadly seasickness and her -hatred of the Desmonds and shook and trembled in her narrow berth. The -wind was blowing great guns and the sailors were rushing here, there, -and everywhere. The captain's voice giving directions sounded to Tilly -like great claps of thunder. She forgot about the pins and her fall -from the horse. - -Gradually, as the sea grew rougher and the danger greater, she found -herself looking in imagination at one sweet, dark, sad and yet smiling -face. It was the face of the little shopkeeper, whom she had tried, -yes, her very best, to injure, perhaps to kill. Now she herself was -face to face with death. It would be awful to go down into the depths -of those wild and terrible waves. Everyone on board seemed uneasy. - -The little steamer swayed from side to side and rocked and shook itself -as though it knew that it was small and angry and powerless. Thrills of -terror ran through Tilly's frame. The captain's voice was heard to say, - -"The dangerous time is when----" - -She could not catch the rest of the words. The stewardess did not come -near her. Women laughed and cried and screamed. Tilly was all alone in -her little cabin. She wondered how long she would take drowning. She -could think of nothing but the horrors of death. Then all of a sudden -she made up her mind not to die in a hole. She would creep upstairs and -be on deck. She had read stories of shipwrecks and when the worst came -boats were put out. The stewardess was a horrid woman and would not -think of her. Well, she would think of herself. She would be one of the -very first to leave the boat when the appalling hour of danger came, -when they got to the--that unpronounceable name which she could not -catch. - -But it was all very well for Tilly to try to get out of her berth, she -found she could not. The sea took her and threw her back again into it. -The sea tossed her against the side of her narrow berth, and she had to -cling on with one hand to an extremely narrow rail and with the other -to the top of the berth. The sea roared, the winds roared. Showers of -foam flung themselves against the port-hole. The combined sounds spoke -of nothing but death, death, death! - -Never in all her life had she been so miserable before. Even The -Desmond and Malachi were nothing to this anguish. She would sink to the -bottom of the deep, deep sea and no one would be very, very sorry. Why -should they? Had she ever made anyone love her? Her father--had he not -punished her and been cross to her all her days! Her stepmother--had -she not been sly and told false things about Tilly? Well, they would -not have any more trouble with her again; she would eat her last supper -with Davy Jones. - -She felt confused, slightly raving! What sort of supper would he -give her? Fishes, of course, all sorts of fishes and then afterwards -the big fishes would eat her and no one would lament unless perhaps, -perhaps _Margot_! But no, it was impossible to think that Margot -would be sorry. Why should a shopgirl be sorry? She, Margot, was only -that--nothing more at all, although they did make such a fuss about her -at Desmondstown. - -Suddenly in the midst of her meditations there came a curious and -remarkable lull. She no longer found it necessary to cling to either -one side or the other of the berth. It seemed as though someone, she -thought it was Margot, had poured oil on the disturbed waters. Might -she, could she, would she be allowed to save even such a wicked girl as -Tilly? - -Tilly acknowledged now that she was wicked and that Margot was good and -then all of a sudden the stewardess bustled in. - -"For the Lord's sake get up, missie," she said in a cheerful tone. "I -couldn't come near ye with others so bad, but we are in harbour, thank -the Lord, and all danger is over. Yes, we had a rough night, mighty -rough. I've never gone through a worse, but I couldn't stay along of -cowards. Here's your jacket, missie, I'll slip it on ye, and here's -your hat! You do look bad, but we are very late in, and if you want to -catch your train for London, ye'd best hurry up. Shall I get a porter -for your luggage, missie?" - -Tilly answered "yes" in a meek sort of voice and then she gave the -stewardess who had done nothing for her all night a shilling out of -her scanty store. Presently she was on dry land and in the train. She -was not going to eat her supper with Davy Jones, she was going to live -after all; she had passed through a fearful night, but she was going to -live. - -Everything was new and fresh to her now, and when a boy brought her a -cup of tea and a plate of bread and butter, she ate greedily and with -appetite. Then it occurred to her that she ought to wire to her father. -She had money enough for this, too. The Desmond had supplied her with -plenty of money. - -Mr. Raynes was a coal merchant on a large scale, exceedingly well off. -He lived on Clapham Common. The house was ugly and without any pretence -to good looks. Tilly's stepmother met her in London, scolded her, -shook her, put her hat straight and asked her why in the world was she -coming home so soon. - -Tilly felt all the old wicked feelings rising in her breast when her -stepmother began to harangue her. She immediately said that she was -only wasting time at Desmondstown and wanted to work very hard indeed, -so as to get to Arles one week before term began. - -The stepmother went on scolding. Tilly hardly listened. She was feeling -wicked again, but she was thankful to be on dry land. They reached the -big, luxuriously furnished, vulgar-looking house on Clapham Common. - -Tilly suddenly felt herself very sick; her stepmother was fairly kind -to her when she was really sick. She allowed her to go to bed and sent -Mary Ann, the house-parlourmaid, upstairs to look after her. - -Mary Ann was a favourite with Tilly and listened with mouth wide open, -ears extended to their utmost, and eyes that looked as though they -were going to spring out of her head, to Tilly's account of the awful -storm at sea. She got the girl swiftly and quickly into bed and gave -her a very little hot tea and dry toast, and then Tilly forgot all her -miseries in sleep. - -It may have been her fall off the back of Starlight, or it may have -been her fearful crossing, but, whatever the reason, for a few days -Matilda Raynes was really ill. She was feverish and the doctor was sent -for. During the whole of this time she was attended by Mary Ann and -very occasionally saw her stepmother, but never once her father. - -The doctor said she must have got a very severe shock of some sort. He -told this to her father and also to her stepmother. - -When Raynes, the coal-merchant, discovered that his daughter had -received a shock and had come back home much sooner than she had -expected to do so, he sat down and wrote a firm, cold letter to Mr. -Desmond of Desmondstown. He said his child had been brought back to him -at death's door and he wanted to know the reason of it. Had those wild -Irish folk been playing pranks with his only child? He had no idea of -addressing The Desmond as The. He had never heard of such a title, and -if he had would not have used it. - -At last he received a reply in the neat, firm handwriting of Fergus -Desmond. Fergus told him of the letter not being addressed right -which naturally came into his possession. His father's title was The -Desmond. He said he did not wish to complain of Matilda Raynes, but -as her father wished to know the truth, he would tell him the truth. -He then proceeded to give a graphic description of the thoroughbred -Starlight and of Tilly's conduct with regard to the ten pins. He wasted -no words, but told the story just as it stood. - -Tilly was sent away by The Desmond. He could not possibly have such a -wicked girl in his house. There was one person whom The Desmond set -great store by and that was his little granddaughter Margot, or the -pushkeen as he called her. Tilly was jealous of the pushkeen and when -she was not allowed to ride her horse she stuck pins into the saddle, -hoping thereby to injure if not to kill the little girl. That was the -story; he had nothing more to say. He was sorry for Mr. Raynes. - -Raynes passed the letter across the table to his wife, who read it with -pursed-up lips and glittering pale-blue eyes. - -"Well, I must say it was a nasty thing to do," she said. - -"It was," said Raynes. "We'll teach her what's what when she's better." - -"She's better to-night, Robert. Mary Ann says she is nearly well." - -"We'll wait for what's what until to-morrow," said Robert Raynes. - -The next day Tilly was dressed. She had partaken of an excellent dinner -prepared for her by Mary Ann, and a bright little fire burnt in her -room. She was feeling still weak and tired. Her father came in and -looked at her. She shrank away from him in a sort of terror. - -"Oh, you are afraid of me, are you?" said the coal-merchant. "You have -good cause to be. Read that!" - -He passed Fergus Desmond's letter across the width of the little table -and laid it in Tilly's hand. - -"Take your time," he said, "I'm in no hurry." - -He sat down deliberately and looked about him. Tilly could not see the -letters at all at first from a queer sense of giddiness. She wished her -father would go and leave her alone. But he sat quite calmly by the -fire. - -"You'll just have the goodness to read that quietly," he said. "I'm in -no manner of hurry. Take it in, take it all in!" - -By degrees Tilly did take it in. She raised terrified weak eyes to her -father's face. - -"Oh, daddy, daddy," she said. "Don't be angry with me. She's only a -shopkeeper and they make such a fuss of her--and I--I'm so weak and -miserable." - -"Perhaps ye are a bit," said Raynes. "I'm not going to be angry, but -ye'll get your whipping all the same." - -"Oh, dad, oh, dad----" - -"Yes, child, there's no escape; just hold on to the foot of the bed and -bare your two arms and your shoulders. I don't hold with girls who want -to injure other girls. Now for every time you cry out you'll get an -extra stroke, so keep as quiet as you can." - -Tilly knew there was no help for it. Her father had brought a light, -keen-looking cane into the room with him. She had seen it when he had -given her the letter to read. He slashed right, he slashed left,--she -kept back her screams. After a time she was strangely still, she had -fainted. - -Then Mary Ann came up and comforted and petted her and put her back to -bed and eased her sores by some very delicate ointment. No one else was -in the least inclined to be kind. Two days afterwards, however, Raynes -entered his daughter's bedroom. - -"There isn't the making of a lady in you, Tilly," he said, "and I'm not -going to send you back to Arles any more. There's a cheap school for -your sort of girl close by, and you can help your stepmother when you -are not working at school, and by the time you are sixteen you'll be -sitting in my coal-office taking down orders for tons and tons of coal. -No more Arles or French, or fine ladies for you! Bless my soul, you -_are_ a mean little thing! But now I want to get at the truth of this. -Tell me every blessed thing you know about that kind girl you call the -little shopkeeper." - -Tilly did tell her story. She told it graphically and even with her -father's stern eyes fixed on her face, with a certain amount of -correctness. She had bought hats and robes from _la petite_ Comtesse -and the old man the Comte St. Juste didn't know, and the old man The -Desmond in Ireland didn't know. - -"You are sure of your facts?" said Raynes, when she had stopped. - -"Yes, I'm quite positive sure." - -"That's all right then. I punished you, my girl, because you did a mean -and cruel thing, but I'm not going to let the little shopgirl get off -Scot free. I can't talk _parlez-vous_, so I'm going straight to Ireland -to-night, where I'll tell the entire story to those folks who think -themselves so fine. You needn't begin your school-life, my girl, till I -come back. This has got to be seen to and I'm the man for the job." - -"Oh, oh, father, don't--don't----" suddenly cried Tilly. "I see her, -she's in the room, she's looking at me!" - -"Why you are raving mad, child, who's in the room, who's looking at -you?" - -"_La petite_ Comtesse Margot. She was the only one who was always kind; -even when I stuck pins into the saddle she was kind, and I saw her on -board ship, when I thought I was going to the bottom. Oh, but she's -good, she's _real_ good and M. le Comte, her grandpère, he mustn't be -frightened. He loves her like her other grandfather loves her. Oh, -father, let it be, let it be!" - -"I'm going to Ireland to-night," was Raynes's remark. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THE FEAR OF THE SHILLELAGH. - - -The coal-merchant was a man of his word. He was hard and cruel and -unkind, but in his own way he was proud of Tilly. Those people whom he -was most proud of he liked to train, and he was under the impression -that he trained his daughter Matilda very well. When he beat her, which -he did constantly; when he scolded her, he quoted to himself the old -words, "Spare the rod and spoil the child." He felt he was following in -the footsteps of Holy Writ. He thought himself a very blessed man. - -Now in addition to all this scolding and beating on the part of -the coal-merchant with regard to Matilda Raynes, there was also a -strange feeling of absolute indifference towards her stepmother. Her -stepmother's name was Harriet; and Joshua Raynes thought very little of -Harriet. In consequence he left her alone. She was only useful in the -matter of helping him to train Matilda, but he never fussed over his -second wife, and, as far as possible, let her go her own way. - -Harriet Raynes quickly discovered that nothing excited Joshua Raynes so -much as to talk about Tilly, more in especial to talk _against_ Tilly. -He used to listen with his staring eyes fixed on his wife's face and -say "Good little woman" and then go upstairs and prove things to his -own satisfaction and beat Tilly because he loved her enough to consider -beating essential. - -She would be a very rich woman by-and-bye, for the coal-merchant did a -thriving business and all his money he put by for Tilly. That was the -one joy of his life. He could hurt her and torture her and yet in his -queer, unaccountable way, she was the only creature he loved. - -He was quite determined, however, to get to the bottom of the Irish -story. If the thing was true, the girl who put on airs and kept a shop -should be publicly disgraced and he would do it. He would enjoy doing -it very much. He couldn't hurt the little shopkeeper--not physically, -at least--but he could make her feel bad, and this he was determined -to do. Mr. Desmond should feel bad, too, forsooth! What name did Tilly -call him--"The"--if you please! He had never heard of anything so -ridiculous in his life. He'd soon knock "The" out of the old curmudgeon. - -It was a calm night when Joshua Raynes took the boat from Fishguard to -Rosslare. He did not go through the miseries his child had undergone -and he steamed away through the calm waters in a boat at least three -times the size. He had never been in Ireland in his life before, and -when he arrived at Rosslare was much bothered with the tongue employed -by the good-natured country folks. - -He said, "Eh, eh, what do you want to tell me?" over and over again. -He told each individual he met that the said individual was stony -deaf, and also dumb. The Irish person, be it man or woman, gossoon or -girleen, objected to his manner, refused to be considered deaf and dumb -when he could sphake the beautiful tongue--the Irish, bedad--to say -nothing of that paltry tongue, the English. - -Joshua felt himself getting crosser and crosser each moment. What was -he to do? How was he to hold out? How was he to find the man called -Desmond who had spoken evil things of his Tilly? He did not in the -least admire the beauty of the country. He had no eye for the green of -the Emerald Isle nor her lofty mountains, nor her flowing streams and -rushing rivers. - -He talked so angrily that people left him alone and the train that -should have taken him to Mallow went off without him. He might have -lingered at Waterford goodness knows how long, waiting for a man of -the name of Desmond and trying to talk to stone-deaf and dumb people, -who only talked gibberish, when a bright-eyed, sparkling-looking -individual came suddenly on the platform, stared at Joshua, said a few -words to the people round and presently came up and introduced himself. - -"I am told ye are lookin' for The Desmond," he said. "You won't find -his high, great mightiness standing in a bit of a shanty like this. I'm -Malachi Desmond, son of The Desmond. I've just had a big sale of horses -this morning and am going back to Desmondstown in a quarter of an hour. -If you want to see The Desmond I've no manner of objection." - -"I want to see _Mr._ Desmond of Desmondstown," said the coal-merchant. - -"There isn't such a person. _Mr._ Desmond! For the Lord's sake, man, ye -are mighty ignorant!" - -"Am I, sir? Well, I don't want you to tell me what I am, and what I am -not." - -"Then you listen to me," said Malachi. "The Desmond is next door to a -king, and he lives in his kingdom, and I'm his son, Malachi. Be the -powers! I wonder if you're the father of that nasty little bit-thing -that stuck pins in the saddle of Starlight. I wouldn't be a scrap -surprised if you were, nor flustered neither. You've got the same -malicious gleam of the eye. We have cats at Desmondstown and _I'm_ -one." - -"You are a very big cat," said Joshua. - -"Well, I'm one when I like. Do ye want to see The Desmond or do ye not?" - -"There isn't such a name, it is silly," said the coal-merchant. - -"Don't ye talk in that sort of way in old Ireland," said Malachi, "for -at a wink from me, _the cat_, we'll have all the boys out with their -shillelaghs. You'd best be careful what you say in our country. The -Desmond _is_ The Desmond, and he is royal king of Desmondstown. By the -same token, here's our train. Are ye coming along with me or are ye -not?" - -"I'm coming along," said Joshua. "I'm a man of my word. It's a wild, -bad country, but I'm coming along all the same. I want to knock 'The' -out of a certain person and I'll do it my own way." - -"We'll see about that," said Malachi. "Remember the big cat never -sleeps." - -"Oh, you are all mad in this dreadful place," said Joshua. "I can't -make out what you are driving at, but I'll come with you, for I think I -can take down your pride a bit." - -"Oh, to be sure, that's a fine thing to do," said Malachi. "Here's an -empty, third-class carriage we can have all to ourselves. You might -begin pulling out my pride at once. It is stuck very deep, its roots -go far and they twist and they turn; and by the powers; they twist and -turn again. But if ye give a long pull and a strong pull maybe ye'll -have some of them out before I begin to scratch." - -The coal-merchant was now quite certain that Malachi was mad, but he -kept his object well in view and determined not to show outward fear -of him. They started on their journey and before they got to Mallow, -Joshua discovered two things about Malachi: first, that he could -understand his language; and second, that he was a real clever man, for -nothing so thoroughly impressed the coal-merchant with cleverness as -the sight of gold and notes. - -Malachi pulled out a quantity of money from his pocket; in fact, some -hundreds of pounds. This money had been paid partly in notes, and -partly in sovereigns and was given for a horse called _Nora Crena_ and -another horse called _A Bit of Herself_ and another horse again called -_Brian the Brave_. He had made well on these horses but he was very -sorry to part with _Brian the Brave_. - -Joshua sat and looked at the man; he looked also at the gold and began -to respect him. At Mallow they changed trains and again were lucky -enough to have one to themselves. Then Malachi bent forward and said in -a grave and very determined voice, - -"Now what may you be wanting to see The Desmond for?" - -"He's not The Desmond," said Joshua. - -"He is. Let that drop. Anyhow what do you want to see him for?" - -"He has turned my child out of his house; he told her to go and she was -all but drowned on the deep sea." - -"She stuck ten pins into the saddle of Starlight," remarked Malachi. -"She did it to injure our pushkeen. It was proved against her and she -couldn't deny it. If your name is Raynes, you're a great horseman, I -take it." - -"Horseman, not I! I never sat on a horse in my life." - -"Dear! To be sure! Your girl rode elegant." - -"Did she?" answered Raynes, feeling a little proud in spite of himself. - -"She did that, she rode like a sylph. I didn't think at first she had -it in her, but she was like a bird on Starlight. You see it was this -way. I was having one of my cat's snoozes in Starlight's loose box. -Starlight wasn't properly broken in at that time, and I was mighty -feared to put any young gurrl on him who didn't understand the nature -of the beast." - -"You were right there," growled Raynes. - -"Well, so I thought I was. And when your bit girleen come and said to -me, 'Let me ride Starlight,' I says 'No, I value your precious life too -much.'" - -"Quite right, too, quite right, too," said Joshua. - -"Then you see she was a bit put out, and no wonder with her gift for -riding. And she came slipping into the stable and never saw me having -my cat's sleep in the loose box, and she fetched down the saddle that -had just come from Cork city for our little bit of a pushkeen, and if -you'll believe me, she stuck ten pins into it; yes, ten--every one I -reckoned. I kept both my eyes wide open and she went away humming to -herself and as pleased as Punch. Then I took nine of the pins out, -for what was the good of injuring the beautiful creature more than -was necessary for my purpose, and I told her she might have a ride -on Starlight if pushkeen would lend her her new saddle. You may be -quite certain she was not behindhand in that, was pushkeen--she's the -best-natured little lambkin that auld Ireland has ever seen. So I -mounted Miss Tilly on Starlight and rode Brian the Brave meself, and -there was only one pin in the saddle, but I contrived it proper to -pierce the hide of the creature. Oh, but she rode like a bird, like -a bird, and I was ashamed of meself for misdoubting her. And then we -talked of all the famous Rayneses of England, who took every prize -worth mentioning in your queer sort of country, and she said she was -hurt at me for doubting her, and of course when I knew she was one -of _those_ Rayneses I was altogether up a tree; yes, to be sure, -that I was. Well, what do ye think? all of a sudden she lets out a -screech,--and a motor car, the De'il's own contrivance, comes splashin' -and roarin' round the corner, and Starlight stood bolt upright on his -hind-legs and I helped missie to a soft fall by the roadside. Then I -made her tell The Desmond----" - -"_Mr._ Desmond, if you please," said Raynes. - -"I made her tell _The_ Desmond the story, and he said she was to go -and go at once, and she did go, and Flannigan, our good Protestant -curate, saw her off, and that's all I can tell you about her. She's not -altogether a very nice child, even though she is a Raynes of England, -but I can't make out for the life of me what you are wantin' at -Desmondstown. You may as well tell me, for I may be able to help you." - -"I'm most bitter ashamed of Tilly," said Raynes, when the other man had -ceased speaking. "She has told a shocking lot of black lies, and her -wanting to injure and perhaps kill the little shopkeeper is perhaps the -worst of all." - -"The little shopkeeper--my word! What next!" - -"I'm coming to that in a minute or two," said Raynes. "She was a bad -little piece and I've punished her according, and I'll punish her -still more for the lies she told about us and horses. Why, man, I'm -a coal-merchant, that's what I am. I am making my pile and a goodly -one it will be if the Lord spares me. But we don't any of us know any -more about horses than you know how to act the cat. We are nothing but -coal-merchants, that's what we are." - -"Well, there is nothing wrong in that," said Malachi. "It seems a pity -she descended to lies. But, now whatever is your business with us, Mr. -Raynes?" - -"I've come for the express purpose of exposing that young girl you make -such a fuss about. She was nothing at all but a little shopkeeper at -Arles and you set her up to be a fine lady." - -"She wasn't no shopkeeper at Arles," said Malachi. "I don't know what -you are talking about." - -"Well, but I do, and I've come over all this long way for the express -purpose of having it cleared up. I've punished my Tilly and I'll punish -her more. There came a time in my life when I thought to make a fine -lady of my Matilda and I sent her to Arles to the school of a woman -who called herself a princess, but Tilly will never be a lady. She'll -keep in her father's station and have to be content. Now, I've listened -in patience to your story and I'm very angry indeed with my girl, -but there's no doubt whatever that right is right, whether it is on -the left side or the right, and that child you think such a power of -spends her time at Arles selling hats and dresses. She's the little -shopkeeper, that's what she is. She has sold hats and dresses to my -girl and that's how my girl knows." - -"We're nearly at home by now," said Malachi. "Phinias Maloney will have -his bit of a cart waiting for us. I'll look into this matter for ye, -Mr.--Mr. Raynes. You keep it dark until I give the word." - -"You're certain sure you won't act the cat on me?" said Raynes. - -"No, no; I should have to be a very wide-awake cat to act that little -game on you. I'm going to ask Phinias Maloney to put you up for the -present and I'll be round when the moment comes that you wish to tell -my father." - -"I don't know that I want to put up for the night at the house of the -man you call Phinias Maloney." - -"You couldn't do better, his house is clean of the clean, and Annie his -wife will give you her bedroom and sleep along of the children, and -himself will lay on the settee near the fire. Now then, here we are. -I expect ye are a bit hungry. There ain't one in the countryside for -frying eggs and bacon to compare with our Annie. Hullo, Phinias, here -ye are!" - -The funny little springless cart was brought up. Malachi had a -short and very earnest conversation with Phinias, who gave one very -solemn twitter of his eyelid but made no further comment of any sort -whatsoever. Presently the three men got under way and Raynes, who -really felt himself very tired, not to say exhausted and ravenously -hungry, began to turn his attention with keen desire to Annie's eggs -and bacon. - -Malachi parted company with Raynes at the broken-down gate of -Desmondstown. He assured Raynes that he would have a word with him that -evening, and left him in the complete care of Phinias, who talked the -entire way to the cottage of the power of the celebrated shillelagh. - -"Be all that's howly," he said, "it would smash a man's brains out -whilst he was a-thinkin'. Every man in these parts kapes wan; they're -better than any guns I've heerd tell on." - -Raynes felt decidedly uncomfortable. He ventured to ask what shape a -shillelagh was, but Phinias's reply was, - -"They're meant for killing, it don't matter the shape! To be sure now, -Annie, mavourneen, here's a gent from England, own father to that dear -little Miss Tilly. He's mad with the hunger. You get him as many -new-laid eggs and rashers of bacon and bread and butter and fresh milk -and cream and tea as you think he can swaller. Don't overdo the man, -but do him well, for the sake of _dear_ little Miss Tilly." - -Annie felt very much inclined to say that she was never dear little -Miss Tilly to her, but there was a look in her husband's face which -caused her to "kape herself to herself." - -Accordingly the childer were swept out of the room. Raynes from England -was given the only decent bedroom in the house and presently Annie -appeared with a great tray, which contained half a dozen fried eggs, as -many rashers of home-cured bacon, bread and butter, and a great jug of -milk, besides rich cream and tea. - -"That'll do," said Raynes, who felt almost sinking from sheer -exhaustion. - -Annie went away and communed with her husband. Raynes ate until he -could eat no more, and then thought he couldn't do better than explore -the premises a little. But he was met at the doorway by no less a -person than Phinias himself. Phinias was twiddling his shillelagh in -the air, and it certainly looked a weapon that could not be trifled -with; that is, if it was turned _against_ you. - -"I'd like to try it," said Raynes, somewhat timidly. - -"You try it--_you_! You don't know the swing of the thing; you 'as to -be out in the air in the first place, and the next you 'as to swing it -through the air with a sort of a swish, and then down it comes--crack!" - -"Oh, well, I don't mind about it," said Raynes. "I'm a harmless man, I -don't want to hurt anybody. I'm just going out for a bit of a stroll." - -"Ho, you ain't," said Phinias. "You'll stay just where you are until -you have spoken your mane and dirty words agin our little Miss -Pushkeen. The jintlemens will come to see you all in good time, and as -soon as ever they have gone, I'll have the greatest pleasure in life -in driving ye back to the railway station where ye can take ship for -England, and you and your low-down girl Tilly can meet again." - -"I tell you, I tell you--" said Raynes, almost stupid with rage, "that -the little miss you make such a fuss about is only----" - -"Come out into the yard and tell me about her there," said Phinias. - -"No, I won't, not while you hold that thing in your hand." - -"I'm not going out without it, so don't you think it. And I'm standing -just here to pervent ye takin' a flyin' lep unbeknownst. Oh, be the -powers! We are all right now, I'm thinkin'. Here's master Malachi and -'himself' coming across the fields. They'll be here in no time." - -"Is he the one they call by the ridiculous name of '_The_'?" asked -Raynes. - -"'Tain't ridiculous. Whist, now, hide yer ignorance if ye can. They -have shillelaghs as well as we. You sphake up to him." - -"I'm not afraid," said Joshua. - -"To be sure you aren't. How could the father of Tilly mavourneen be -afraid?" - -"That's what I'm thinkin'," said Raynes. - -"Ah, thin, jintlemen, here ye be. Welcome to my hovel, The Desmond, -asthore. Welcome, Master Malachi. The gent is gettin' a bit restive. -He's anxious to see ye, to relieve a burden on his mind." - -"I am, and I don't like those sticks you hold," said Raynes. - -The man, who for the time being had adopted the name of The Desmond, -was in reality Fergus, the heir to that ancient title. He immediately -laid his stick on the table. Phinias went out into the yard whistling. -Malachi shook hands with Raynes, as though he was his oldest and -dearest friend, whom he had not met for at least twenty years. - -"I hope ye are feelin' comfortable, sir," he said. - -"Very much so," replied Raynes, "if I might get a breath of the air and -not be frightened to death by that queer man. I want to walk over to -Desmondstown to see Mr. Desmond." - -"I brought him to you," said Malachi. "Here's The Desmond. Be careful -you don't anger him, or he may raise the stick." - -Certainly Raynes never felt in a poorer case. Fergus, who already was -well acquainted with the story of his beloved little Margot, allowed -Raynes to relieve his feelings, looking at him with his steady dark -eyes and his calm, unemotional face. Malachi was as usual all twinkles -and smiles. - -Raynes told his story very badly and, when he came to an end, Fergus -rose to his feet, and said in his refined, gentlemanly voice, - -"Well, now, this is no news to me. It is the French stepgrandmother's -doing and must be put a stop to. I'll see that it is put a stop to and -I'm greatly obliged to you for tellin' me the whole story from first to -last, so graphically as you have done, Mr.--Mr. Raynes." - -"I'm obliged to you, _Mr._ Desmond," said Raynes. - -"That's right, call me anything you like. I'm not particular." - -"The car is at the door. We had best be starting, if ye want to catch -yez train," said Phinias. - -"Oh, yes, yes," cried the coal-merchant, who was only too terribly -anxious to get out of the land of the shillelagh. - -Phinias and he were soon driving rapidly in the uncomfortable cart to -the railway station. He never felt so pleased in his life as when he -got into the train. He was heard to remark to one or two farmers on his -return journey that "The Desmond, ridiculous name, looked a very young -man." The farmers stared but made no comment. - -Thus did Malachi and Fergus save their father from a shock, which would -have undoubtedly half killed him, for the Irish pride is like no other -pride. It sinks into the heart, it eats the very vitals and has been -known many and many a time to destroy life. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -IF IT MUST BE IT MUST. - - -When one is young and when one is happy time goes fast; nay, more, time -goes like lightning. There is the beautiful joy of existence, there is -the exquisite feeling of love. There is the happiness in which each -hour is occupied, fully, entirely, completely, for the use of others. -Such was the case with little Margot St. Juste. She played with the -sunshiny passing hours, she sat on The Desmond's knee and brought back -such superb and astounding accounts of her rides on Starlight that -something stirred in the old man's breast and he felt that he himself -must, forsooth, go a-riding with this fascinating little colleen. - -Accordingly the _King of the Desmonds_ was brought out and Malachi rode -at one side of little Margot and The Desmond himself at the other. The -old horse knew quite well who was on his back and in some remarkable -measure got back some of his lost youth, and noble were the exercises -which the three riders took over hills and dales, across country, over -different stiles and various impediments, and each day The Desmond felt -younger and laughed and talked more cheerily. - -The pushkeen had not only brought him back joy, but she had brought him -back his lost youth. Ah, but those were happy days and neither child -nor old man thought of the inevitable return to Arles which was coming -nearer, like a black cloud, day by day. - -When Raynes returned to his large and vulgar house on Clapham Common, -he spoke to his daughter in a way which she was never likely to forget. -He was, in short, furiously angry. He told her she was a bad, bad girl -and that the High School at Clapham was far too good for her. Tilly -had always known that the said High School was good, in fact, a great -deal too good, but she wanted, if possible, to punish Margot. Although -it was now finally settled that she was not to return to the school -of la Princesse de Fleury, she could, nevertheless, work mischief, -as far as Margot was concerned. She knew the exact date on which the -little shopkeeper would return to Arles, when she would be petted by -her doting and ignorant grandfather and when morning after morning -she would enter the great _établissement_ and sell chapeaux and robes -innumerable to the _élite_ of Arles, the _élite_ of England, the -_élite_ of America. Oh, yes, she had a friend who would help her. She -would write to this friend. The friend's name was Louise Grognan. - -Louise Grognan was a considerable character on her own account, was -liked at the school of la Princesse, and was always very friendly with -Tilly. Tilly wrote to her now as follows: - -"Oh, Louise," she began, "I am not coming back any more to your -beautiful school. I regret this for many reasons, but my French by the -ignorant people here is considered perfect and I am in consequence to -be taught the tongue of England in all its branches. Think not that -I will forget you, Louise, and sometime, perhaps, your good _père_ -will allow you to come to visit me in my father's grand house. It is -rich and very grand and nobly furnished. Your père Grognan can make -the _filet de sole_, the _sauce Hollandaise_, the _entrée bouche -à la reine_, but my father--ah, wait until you behold him, sweet -Louise! Now then, to business. You know that little Comtesse who sells -chapeaux of all sorts and descriptions and robes of all sorts and -makes, at the _établissement_ of Madame Marcelle. We call her here the -little shopkeeper and she likes it not. I went to stay with her at -Desmondstown, a ramshackle old place, where they played a very cruel -trick on me, and when I told them that _la petite_ Comtesse was only -a little shopkeeper, they would not believe me. Now, I want you to -help me, and if you do, and do the thing well, I will invite you to -my gorgeous home in Angleterre next summer or perhaps even at Easter. -We live close to the greatest city in the world, Londres, so big, so -mighty, so powerful. It is not as graceful as Paris, but it will ravish -your eyes and I will take you there day by day and you will have a -glorious time. But what I want you to do now is this. The grandpère of -the little Comtesse, M. le Comte St. Juste, does not know at all that -his granddaughter helps at a shop. He is a very old and feeble man and -he ought to be enlightened. Now, I put this into your hands, my best -beloved Louise, to tell him the truth. You must call at the Château St. -Juste and ask to see him. Go, I beseech of you, when the weather is -cold and the bees do not hum so much and do not trouble themselves to -sting. If you convey the news, thoroughly and perfectly, to the ears of -the old, old man, I have in my possession forty francs, no less, which -I will send you, and afterwards you shall come to see me for long weeks -at Clapham Common, which is thought the _most_ aristocratic part of all -London. Now listen to me, Louise, and as you listen, Louise Grognan, -obey! I will promise to you a glorious time and although the food is -English, not French, it is of the best and the daintiest." - -This letter was addressed to Mlle. Louise Grognan at her father's -large restaurant and Tilda received an answer in due course. Louise -could be sure of nothing, but she would do her best. As it happened, -she owed forty francs to Madame Marcelle and she knew that her father, -whose restaurant was so famous, would be furious if he knew that she -had gone into debt. She did not really care for Matilda Raynes, nor -was she very keen to go to Clapham Common, nor to see the cold wonders -of London. She preferred _la belle_ France--with its lovely Arles and -its gay Paris. She did not care for pictures nor monuments nor ancient -cathedrals. She liked dress better than anything else in the world. If -she paid off her forty francs she might run up a further little bill at -the _établissement_ of Madame Marcelle. - -Then it occurred to her as she replied to her friend, or rather her -so-called friend, that she might raise the price for this rather nasty -little job. Accordingly, she said that she would do what Matilda -Raynes desired for sixty francs but not a penny under. Tilly, wild -with delight, felt certain that she could secure this really small sum -of money, and while Margot rode with all the happiness of her joyous -little heart on Starlight and The Desmond rode by her side on the _King -of the Desmonds_ and Malachi rode a horse which he called _The Pet -Lamb_ on the other side, these miserable things were being arranged for -the future unhappiness of the little Comtesse. - -The day and the hour arrived. There came an afternoon when, true to his -word, Uncle Jacko, beloved Uncle Jacko, appeared on the scene. Margot -clasped her arms round his neck, kissed him several times and said, -"Has it indeed come?" - -Uncle Jacko replied with that saint-like look on his beautiful face, -"It is the will of the Almighty." - -Fergus suddenly appeared and said to Margot, "Keep silence for a time, -my child; go and nestle into the arms of your grandfather." - -Little Margot went very softly and sadly away. Uncle Jacko and Uncle -Fergus went out into the yard. They found a lonely spot and began to -talk very earnestly together. - -"Yes, I've known all about it from the first," said Fergus Desmond. -"It was not our pushkeen's fault. The Comte St. Juste married beneath -him and behold the result, but it must come to an end. When you start -to-morrow morning for Arles with little Margot, I will go with you, -Jack Mansfield, for I have a word to say to Madame la Comtesse. It is -she who is doing the mischief. She is using our little one, our dear -little one, for her own worldly purposes." - -"I have known it also all along," said Uncle Jacko, "but if we can keep -the fact from the two old grandfathers, surely no harm can be done." - -"I don't wish it," said Fergus. "I, too, have my pride. Some day, -I hope a far distant day, she will be the niece of _The_ Desmond. -Understand, I choose not to have a shopkeeper as a niece." - -"Ah, but that matters so very, very little," said Uncle Jacko. - -Fergus gave him a queer smile of non-comprehension. - -"I have made up my mind and I go with you," he said after a long pause, -and thus it was arranged. - -Early the next morning the pushkeen appeared in her grandfather's room, -where he was seated in his high grandfather's chair by a huge fire of -turf. - -"See, see, grand-dad!" said Margot. "See, behold, listen!" She looked -wildly excited and wildly pleased. She was keeping back the sorrow that -was breaking her very heart. - -"See, my own, own, _own_ grandfather," she said, seizing his fingers. -"First, finger one; next, finger two; third, finger three--I go away -for three of these fingers. I come back at the end of that time to my -own darlingest grand-dad. I go at once, at once! Oh, grand-dad, kiss -me, love me, love me! Oh, grand-dad, I love you too much to cry. Kiss -me, my best of all grand-dads, kiss me at once." - -The poor astonished Desmond took the child of his heart into his strong -arms. He pressed her close to his heart, he solemnly counted out the -months. - -"You will come back," he said. - -"I will come back, my own, own grand-dad." - -"Three months," he said. "You came to me on the 6th of September, -you will return on the 6th of March. Ah, but surely it is less than -nothing. I do not grieve, The Desmond never grieves. It would be -contrary to his high dignity." - -Then he kissed Margot, although his lips trembled and she ran out into -the great hall, so bare, so empty, so desolate, where all the family, -including Malachi and Madam, were assembled. - -"Don't make a fuss," said the pushkeen. "If you do, perhaps a tear -might force itself out and I'm like The Desmond, I _don't_ cry. Now -then, Malachi, go straight in and talk to grand-dad. Make him laugh -about the horses and keep Starlight quite safe for me and--and darling -grandmother, Madam, do your lovely crochet in the corner where you -always sit and talk about pushkeen and say that I'm so happy and say -that I'm coming back again in a twink. Now don't kiss me and sob over -me, anyone, for I belong to The Desmond and he _never_ cries." - -All the party assembled in the hall were a little astonished at the -pushkeen's manner, but they let her go without a word, and Malachi went -into the special room provided for The Desmond. - -The old man was cowering over the great turf fire and shivering not a -little. His face was very white. He seemed to show his years. Madam did -not dare to speak to him, but crept to her accustomed corner. Malachi -came close and spoke in a determined voice. - -"Sir, I've been thinking it out." - -"I'm in no mood for your thinking," said The Desmond. - -"But, listen, father, it is very important," said Malachi. "It's about -her little self, the pushkeen that's gone." - -"Don't talk of her or I'll let out on ye," said The Desmond. "I keep my -shillelagh within reach. I'm old, but I can let the shillelagh fly." - -"Ye wouldn't let it fly on your son," replied the young man. "I'm -thinking that you and me will be very busy the next three months -getting ready for her little self." - -"Getting ready, how and what do ye mean?" - -"I thought we might begin to rear a stud of horses for her and sell 'em -and put away the money so as to have a bit of a pile ready for her -worthy of her name, and of your name, and when the pile is big enough, -she can take your name Desmond, not the whole of it of course because -that goes to Fergus, but she can be the little pushkeen Desmond. Only -we must set to work at once, you and me, father, a secret all to -ourselves." - -The old man raised his very bright blue eyes. - -"Malachi," he said. "I never heard ye speak a word of sense before, but -there's sense in what ye are talking about now. We must prepare for -the little one's future, and ye are wonderful with the young beasts, -Malachi. We'll go out to the stables at once and talk it over." - -"Yes, father, to be sure," said Malachi. - -Meanwhile the other old grandfather, _mon_ grandpère, was waiting in -raptures for the return of _la petite_ Comtesse. He spoke about her -every moment to _la_ Comtesse, _la belle_ grand'mère. He was feeling -very feeble and weak but the thought of his Henri's child returning -to him brought him peace and strength. Meanwhile, during the journey, -Fergus acquainted Uncle Jacko with what he meant to do. The shop must -be put a stop to. They could provide for the little one themselves. She -must not earn money in the shop. Little Margot pretended not to listen, -but in reality she listened very hard. - -As they approached the town of Arles, they found that they were in an -empty compartment. All the other passengers had got out at different -stations. Then little Margot turned and spoke. She went straight up to -Uncle Fergus and put her hand on his knee. - -"That time when you thought I was asleep, I was not asleep. I had my -eyes shut, but my ears were open and I heard." - -"Well, what did you hear, pushkeen?" said Fergus, speaking as calmly as -he could. - -"I heard you say to Uncle Jacko that I was not to help _ma belle_ -grand'mère any more in the _établissement_. But how do you think she -will get on without me? Has she not to take care of _mon bon_ grandpère -and is she not providing a _dot_ for me? And _mon_ grandpère does -not know anything, and he will not know. Listen! I mean to help _ma -belle_ grand'mère. She shall not work for nothing at all--no, she shall -not. Uncle Fergus, The Desmond must never, never know and _mon bon_ -grandpère of Arles must never know. But why should I not help a little?" - -"You are a foolish colleen," replied Fergus, patting the little hand -which rested on his knee. - -That was all Margot could get him to say and she went back to her seat -at the other side of the carriage feeling terribly disconsolate. Why -should she not help people? She liked helping people. It was wrong -to oppose her when she was doing right. She felt certain, sure, that -it was wrong. Then she gave a quick side glance at Fergus's face and -noticed the expression on it--the determination, the quiet resolution -to have his own way in spite of _la petite_ Comtesse, or the little -pushkeen as she was called in Ireland. - -At last they arrived. The motor-car met them. They drove to the -Château St. Juste. Ah, but was not M. le Comte glad to see his little -Margot! His black eyes shone, his cheeks grew pink with emotion. Time -seemed not to have stirred since he saw her last. He was lying in his -beautiful cool _salon_ with his pillows of down and his thick soft, -crimson rug of plush. - -The good clergyman sat down and began to talk to him. He took Margot -on his knee and pressed her close to him. During these precious few -minutes he felt that he could indulge in the love and the joy of his -heart. But Fergus was determined to have his way. - -Fergus asked Madame to walk with him in the garden, which was sunny -and bright, but which only held some apples, some pears, and such like -fruits on the old trees. The peaches had vanished, the bees had gone -into their winter quarters. It was never cold at Arles, but the people -there thought it cold. Anyhow the bees felt that they might rest from -their labours. - -Madame la Comtesse thought Fergus Desmond very handsome. She adored -_mon_ Alphonse, but she enjoyed talking to any handsome man. - -"Thou hast brought _la petite_ back with you, Monsieur," she said. - -"I have," he replied. "It is her French grandfather's turn to have her -for three months. These partings are sore blows. Madame, I would speak -with you." - -"Ah, but I did think so," replied Madame. "Is not life assuredly of the -most miserable unless we speak out our innermost thoughts? Thou hast a -weight on thy mind, Monsieur le Desmond." - -"I have; it is a bad subject, it must be got through. I have learnt -from the lips of John Mansfield, Madame, and also from the lips of a -very nasty girl who goes to the school of a certain princess, that our -little Margot assists you in a shop. It is kept by a certain Madame -Marcelle. But it is in reality your shop. Her grandfather does not -know, neither her French grandfather nor her Irish grandfather. Such -news would kill either of them. Madame, it must cease. The child goes -to her grandfather, she does not go to you. You must assure me now and -here on your word as an honourable woman that you will never allow the -little Margot to enter the shop of Madame Marcelle, which is in reality -your shop, any more." - -"But listen! Understand, monsieur. May not _la petite_ enter the -apartment where the chapeaux are sold, may not _la pauvre chérie_ buy -a chapeau for herself? Ah, but _non, non_, you can not say against it, -monsieur. _La chère petite_ must be dressed according to the wishes -of her grandfather and me, and, behold! I am making her _dot_ and it -will be solid--oh a pile, a pile; francs by the thousand, by the tens -of thousands, by the hundreds of thousands! Your little niece will be -_très riche_, monsieur, but she must be dressed, ah, _oui_, in the -proper way, monsieur. She wears not now the correct garments for _la -petite_ Comtesse St. Juste, but I was ready for that, and I have a -fresh set of little garments all waiting for her in her _chambre de -nuit_. You will agree with me, monsieur, _n'est-ce pas_?" - -"I do not mind what clothes you buy for the child," said Fergus, "if -you promise that she does not sell things herself in the shop." - -"Ah, but you are cruel, and she likes it. One little hour per day, -monsieur. She has the manners, ah, of the _grande noblesse_, and -behold, the people flock to her and she is making her own little -_dot_, by her own clever speeches, and her own wonderful taste. Permit -it, monsieur, I entreat!" - -"I refuse to permit it," said Fergus. "It must not be. I would rather -she had no _dot_ and was a lady." - -Tears filled the eyes of little Madame. - -"Ah, but indeed, she is a lady the most perfect," was her remark. -"Think, monsieur, consider what I have suffered. I married _mon_ -Alphonse because of the love, oh, so mighty, and because I did so pity -him. He was so beautiful, so desolate, so poor. He was nearly on the -brink of starving, monsieur. Then I come along and I make the wicked -lie. He thinks that I have given up the _établissement_, I make out -to him that it is so, but I could not give it up, monsieur, and give -him the comforts that he needs, the frail, frail old man. Then there -came as a ray of sunshine to his heart _la petite_ Comtesse, the only -child of his only son, and behold he revived! And I took _la petite_ -Comtesse into my _établissement_ and behold! She had the taste superb. -The chapeaux they went like the wind, the fans like the whirlwinds, -the robes they vanished as you looked, and all because of _la petite_ -Margot and her immaculate taste. She is well taught, monsieur, also. -She has masters for French and dancing and the piano and singing. Only -a little of the singing, she is too young at present. She spends but -two hours a day in the _établissement_, and behold it flourishes as -it never did before, and neither of the grandpères know. Where is the -harm, Monsieur Desmond? Why conceal a talent so great? Madame Marcelle -cannot attempt to dispose of my goods as _la petite_ Comtesse does. You -see the thing is honourable, _n'est-ce pas_, Monsieur Desmond?" - -"I do not. I forbid it," said Fergus. "We care not for fine clothes in -Ireland and a little money goes a long way. What we want is to keep up -our great, great nobility. You understand, Madame, have I your word -that it shall cease?" - -"Ah, _oui, oui_, if it must be, it must," said Madame. She spoke in -a gay, light sort of voice and picked a luscious pear, which she -presented to Monsieur Desmond as a token of her unfailing esteem. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE GREEN HAT. - - -There was a strange sort of feeling in the breast of little Margot as -she bade Uncle Fergus good-bye. When he took her in his arms he said, - -"It's all settled, pushkeen, and you are to do as I wish." - -Then Uncle Jacko, with his gentle, angel sort of face, kissed the child -very tenderly and said, - -"You'll do your duty at any cost, my little colleen." - -After that the two men went away and Margot was left with grandpère and -_la belle_ grand'mère. She felt a little bewildered. She could not help -repeating over and over to herself, "I am sorry to come back. I would -rather be with The Desmond than anyone else in the wide, wide world," -but she was learning self-control and was growing a tiny bit older than -her years. She had, however, in her grave, steadfast sort of fashion -quite made up her mind. - -Grandpère should know nothing about _la belle_ grand'mère being helped. -She, Margot, _would_ help her. She kept these thoughts, however, quite -to herself and _la belle_ grand'mère talked rapidly of the handsome -appearance of the Irish Desmond and how most truly he fascinated the -heart. - -Little Margot took no notice of this. She was absorbed in comforting -grandpère. He certainly looked very old indeed in comparison with The -Desmond. His black eyes had sunk further into his head, but he was -rejoiced beyond words to have the child of his only son with him, and -he kept patting her hand and saying, - -"_Très bien, la petite_, thou blessed one, thou angel, thou little -cabbage." - -Margot did not feel in the least like an angel, but nevertheless she -was determined to do her very utmost for grandpère and on his account -for _la belle_ grand'mère. - -Madame la Comtesse, true to her word, had provided the most ravishing -little costumes for _la petite_ to wear, and _la petite_ felt that -the time had come when she might without any difficulty put on the -pretty garments, which would be disliked and disapproved of at dear old -Desmondstown. Her soft black hair, rippling, curling, flowing, fell -far below her waist. Her small feet were encased in shoes of the most -perfect and softest kid. This kid was of a delicate shade of blue. Her -open-work stockings were to match her shoes. Then there was a little -pale blue embroidered short frock, very simple, but oh, according to -Madame and grandpère, _superb_. - -As a matter of fact, _la belle_ grand'mère had not trusted Madame -Marcelle, but had sent to Paris for the little costume. The child -danced about the room in delight, the old man's eyes glistened, Madame -felt tears somewhere near her own eyes, but Margot of the Desmonds -did not attempt to cry. It was not according to her ideas, _comme il -faut_--oh, by no means at all, _comme il faut_. - -At last grandpère got tired and went to bed, then Margot went up to _la -belle_ grand'mère, - -"I'm going to do it," she said. "I'm going to help you." - -"Thou blessed _enfant_!" exclaimed Madame. "Ah, _mon Dieu_, but thou -art of the very best; distinguished is no word. Repose thyself, _mon -enfant_. Thy dainty room is ready for thee, _petite_. To-morrow we will -talk." - -"No," said Margot, "we will talk to-night. Now, this instant! We will -settle, we will arrange, we will not put off. For me, I am under no -promise. Thou dost want me in the _établissement_, I will go there for -two hours each day. Thou and I between us will look after the old, very -old grandpère. Thou art _trop fatiguée_ to do it all by thyself." - -"Ah, but thou art a true poem, a romance!" exclaimed the delighted -Madame. "And wilt thou really serve in the _établissement, petite_?" - -"I will on one condition," replied Margot. "Neither of my grandfathers -must ever know. I told Uncle Fergus what I thought right and fair. He -did not agree and I am sorry, for I love him. But now for three months -I will help thee, _ma belle_ grand'mère." - -"Ah, but thou art of the blessed," said the Comtesse. "Do not the -angels sing of thee? Have they not this very night sung a new song to -their harps on account of thee, _ma petite_?" - -"I care not in the least what the angels do," said Margot, "but I want -to help thee and grandpère. I will do it, too. To-morrow I will begin. -Two hours daily, except Sunday, when I kneel in my room and pray to -the good God; the rest of the time I learn of the French--yes--of -the music--yes--of the dancing--yes! Now I will repose as thou dost -suggest, _ma belle_ grand'mère, for I am weary, not having slept, I may -say, anything at all last night." - -"Ah, thou blessed one, I will take thee to thy room," said Madame. - -Margot undressed quickly and got into bed, a smile on her face. She had -a strange feeling that she was doing right, that this was an occasion -when it was her bounden duty to resist dear Uncle Fergus and help la -Comtesse. She little guessed, however, that there was a certain girl, -well known in the school of la Princesse de Fleury, namely, Louise -Grognan, the daughter of Grognan the owner of the big restaurant in -the Boulevard des Italiens--she little knew that this young person was -watching her and intended for her own purposes to spoil what she called -the fun of the little shopkeeper. - -Accordingly the next day, when Margot was busy over her duties as -saleswoman, Louise Grognan entered the shop. She came straight up -to Margot and asked her in a harsh, unpleasant sort of voice for a -chapeau, and she was to be _vite_. - -Margot smiled in her gentle, pleasant way, said she was busy for the -time being, but if Mademoiselle Grognan would wait for a few minutes -she would take her to the _apartement_ where the chapeaux were sold. - -Louise frowned a little, felt decidedly cross, but after a time decided -to wait. She was catching the little shopkeeper in the act. Nothing -could be more agreeable. - -Perhaps never before had little Margot St. Juste looked more beautiful -than she did on this occasion. There was the spirit of self-denial in -her charming little face. She was doing what she was doing for others -and not for herself. Her appearance, too, was remarkably striking. -Madame had dressed the little girl on this occasion in a soft crimson -robe, much embroidered, with stockings and dainty shoes to match. - -The beautiful child attracted the attention of everyone. - -"Behold la Comtesse! Behold la Comtesse!" echoed from end to end of the -great _établissement_. - -"Now, thou, _chérie_, shalt be dressed according to thy needs," said a -happy mother to a blushing daughter. - -"And thou, Carlice, shalt wear what suits thee at long last," said an -ungainly aunt to an equally ungainly niece. "Ah, but she has the taste, -the little Comtesse!" - -On all sides there were sounds of rejoicing and pleasure at seeing the -pretty child back again. Margot heard the words, but she had all the -dignity of her race. She told Madame Coquenne and Madame Lise that she -would be with them soon, as soon as possible, and then she went off to -attend to Louise Grognan. - -"I want a chapeau," said Louise. "You put on wonderful airs, Margot, -seeing you are only a shopkeeper." - -Margot looked at Louise out of her beautiful, deep, loving eyes. - -"Do you want to say unkind things to me, Louise?" she remarked. "_Ma -belle_ grand'mère wishes me to help her a little and I am willing to do -it, for she is overworked, but _mon bon_ grandpère he knows nothing, he -thinks me a fine lady, la Comtesse St. Juste. I consider that a fine -lady is the one who does best her duty." - -"Are you coming back to our school?" interrupted Louise. - -"No, I'm too busy for the school." - -"Ah, I thought as much. Besides, we do not take shopkeepers at our -school." - -"But thy _bon père_ is a restaurant keeper. I see not the difference." - -Louise gave an angry clench of her little fists. - -"Dost thou not know, _petite fille_, that I myself keep no restaurant -personally? _Mon père_, he works for me; the difference is wide, -immense." - -"_Mon père est mort_," answered Margot in a sad voice. "Thou didst ask -for a chapeau. Wilt thou select?" - -Louise chose a very tall, beehive-shaped head-dress of vivid green, -trimmed with quantities of grass of the same shade. - -"It will not suit thee, Louise," said Margot, in her gentle, -fascinating voice. - -"Well, what wouldst thou suggest?" asked Louise, who was too well aware -of the excellence of Margot's taste to dare to despise it. - -"I would dress thee so," said Margot, and she produced a soft, black -hat, very soft, very light, which could be turned up at the side and -into which Margot arranged a little piece of ribbon, bright, soft, -crimson, which made an arresting note in the blackness of the hat. - -"Behold, here is thy chapeau!" said Margot. - -Louise pouted a little, looked longingly at the grass-green hat, but -finally succumbed to the black hat with the crimson ribbon. - -Margot brought her before a large mirror and made her see herself in -both hats. - -"Ah, bah, thou must not be seen in that!" she said, flinging the -grass-green chapeau aside. "Now behold the other hat! The complexion -it softens, the eyes they glow, the crimson note of colour softens the -colour in thy lips and cheeks. It is _très beau_ that chapeau; it suits -thee, Louise. It is my wish that thou shouldst wear it." - -"Ah, _c'est bien_," exclaimed Louise. "But the price, the price must be -low." - -"One hundred and fifty francs," said Margot, in a calm, steady voice, -"not a penny less, not a penny more. Behold the quality of the black, -look for thyself at the shape, see how the ribbon entwines itself, -just enough and no more, as I have placed it. One hundred and fifty -francs--I have spoken." - -"I cannot pay you now," said Louise. "You will let it lie against my -little account." - -"_Non, non_, that I never do," said Margot. "Those who buy from _la -petite_ Comtesse pay as they buy. Thou mayst, if thou dost please, -Louise, buy a chapeau of Madame Marcelle; but for me, I take my black -hat to another customer. She is looking at it with eyes that devour." - -Certainly Louise Grognan felt inclined to stamp her feet, to rage, to -utter a wicked little swear; but Margot did not take the least notice. -She sold the beautiful black hat to a striking-looking American girl, -and the grass-green hat was purchased by Louise and put down to the -account of the said young lady by Madame Marcelle. - -Now, indeed, her anger was at its height. She hated little Margot -because she could not in the least compete with her. The grave dignity -of the child was beyond her power to emulate. She of the people could -not imitate that other one of the aristocrats. She might call her the -little shopkeeper as much as she liked, but she really was _la petite_ -Comtesse and not only the assistants in the _établissement_ adored -her, but all the customers insisted on having _la petite_ Comtesse to -serve them. - -Louise was now ripe for revenge. She hated the handsome child, who was -so grave, so firm and dignified and full of that resolve which can only -be called by its true name, the tone of the aristocrats. - -Well, well, at least Louise should have her revenge. She wrote a long -letter to Tilly Raynes, telling her that she had caught Marguerite in -the act, and she was only waiting for her opportunity to communicate -with M. le Comte St. Juste. She thought also that it might help her a -little if Tilly would give her the address of the Irish grandpère, who -was also so eaten up with pride. - -Tilly wrote immediately, giving the full address of The Desmond of -Desmondstown. - -"I know no such name as The," thought Louise. "I will call him Monsieur -Desmond. He shall get the letter as soon as possible. I will write the -letter to-day; the day after to-morrow I will visit le Comte." - -Accordingly she wrote in her broken English to Monsieur Desmond at -Desmondstown in the County of Kerry, Ireland, but the letter fell into -the hands of Fergus. He read it as best he could, smiled a little at -the invincible spirit of the pushkeen and then tore the letter into -little fragments. - -Meanwhile Louise took the opportunity to ask la Princesse de Fleury to -allow her to go to see her father at the Boulevard des Italiens. La -Princesse was always ready to oblige. She said the girl might have a -half-holiday, but must be back by six o'clock. - -Louise put on her hideous grass-green hat and set out in high spirits. -The walk from the town of Arles to the Château St. Juste was a good -mile in length. Louise said to herself how thoroughly she would enjoy -bowing that pride of the dreadful old man to the dust. Even in the -beautiful town of Arles it was not very warm now. Winter was setting in -with rigor, so the people of the south of France thought, although the -hedges were covered with roses and climbing geraniums, and everywhere -the air was perfect with the delicious smell of violets. - -Louise had made careful enquiries and knew that she would arrive at the -château when Margot and _la belle_ grand'mère were out. She was not -accustomed to much walking, however, and her steps went slowly. What -was to become of the little shopkeeper when she had fully explained her -story? She thought that at the very least _la petite_ Comtesse would -be dismissed, disgraced, sent back to those Irish people, who were -so wild and ugly and indifferent and even _they_ would not receive -her, for she had been told that their pride was of the greatest, and -Monsieur Desmond must have got her letter or certainly would get it -before Margot arrived. - -Ah, well, truly had she earned her sixty francs and the grass-green hat -was very pretty according to her own ideas. She arrived at the gates of -the old château. They were opened to her by a tiny Frenchwoman, whom -Madame la Comtesse had placed at the lodge. - -She walked up the perfectly kept avenue and smelt more strongly than -ever the perfume of the violets, the scent of the roses, and the scent -also of the sweet pink geraniums which fell in clusters round the -trees, helping to adorn the few that were leafless, but most of the -trees were olives and they were now in their bloom. Certainly the home -of Monsieur le Comte was very perfect. - -She reached the front door and pressed the electric bell. A man in the -livery of the St. Justes replied at once to her summons. - -Louise made her request. - -"Ah, _non, non, ce n'est pas possible_. Madame she is out and _la -petite_ Comtesse is also out," replied the footman. - -"I want to see Monsieur le Comte," said Louise. "I have a message to -give him of great importance with regard to his granddaughter." - -The man looked hard, very hard indeed at Louise. He longed to ask, "Is -it a message of the serious?" but he restrained himself. - -"I will enquire," he said. "_Restez tranquille_, Mademoiselle, I have -before now eaten of your father's sweetmeats the most superb! Ah, but -they melt in the mouth! Behold, a chair, Mademoiselle! I will take your -message to the Comte, if it is really not one to do him any injury." - -"No, no, he ought to know," said Louise. "It will save him trouble in -the future. Go and, behold, if you succeed I will get my father to send -you a box of his best chocolates!" - -The man gazed again at the queer-looking girl and finally retired into -the _salon_ where M. le Comte was calmly resting. - -M. le Comte was very happy--his beloved Madame was nearly always by his -side, and now he had almost three months of _la petite_ before him. The -adored _la petite_! Could any aged man be happier than he? He did not -mind his feeling of weakness, the rapid approach of extreme old age did -not trouble him. He was happy in the gentle, soothing present. What -else mattered, what else could matter? - -He was interrupted when Gustave came in with his message. - -"I want you not, go!" he said. "See you not that I arrange myself -for repose? Go, and leave me in peace! I see no one when my wife and -granddaughter are away." - -"Yes, but you will see me," said Louise, suddenly bursting into the -room, her grass-green hat all awry, her features flushed, her small -eyes full of a delighted vengeance. - -"I have come about your _petite_ Comtesse," said Louise. "See, behold, -you will listen!" - -"Leave us, Gustave," said le Comte, and Gustave closed the door and -applied his ear with great skill to the key-hole. - -"What have you come about?" said the Comte in a voice of high -displeasure. "This is my hour for repose. I see no strangers, more -particularly those like yourself." - -The eyes of Louise flashed with anger. - -"If I suit not your taste, old man," she said, "you have but your -granddaughter to blame. She sold me my chapeau in the _établissement_ -of your good wife. She goes there each day. Ask her, she cannot deny!" - -The Comte felt very queer and sick, a kind of giddiness came over -him, that terrible faintness from which at times he suffered was -approaching, the world looked very dark. - -Suddenly he pulled himself together. He found his eyes fixed on the -hideous grass-green hat, never surely could his little Margot sell -anything so frightful to so low-down a customer. - -"Leave me, I feel faint," he said. "Send to me my man Gustave, and go! -I command you to go at once!" - -Louise looked wildly round her, but the grass-green hat kept on doing -its work, it was quite impossible for M. le Comte to believe her story; -it was out of his power even for an instant to suppose that the little -hands he loved could have touched anything so impossible. - -"You tell lies, my good girl," he said. "It may be possible that you -will drop down dead like Sapphira, who followed the example of Ananias, -her husband. Go quickly, before my anger begins to boil. Hasten before -I attack you with a pistol! There are times when I lose self-control, -and that chapeau--_mon Dieu_! That chapeau! Go at once, I beseech of -you, before I do an injury, which may mean _la mort_!" - -Louise was by now thoroughly frightened. The grand, disdainful manner -of _la petite_ Comtesse was nothing to the terrifying manner of le -Comte himself. - -She did not even wait to speak to Gustave; a shower began to fall from -the heavens, and her grass-green hat marked her face with grass-green -tints the reverse of becoming as she hurried down the avenue. The woman -at the lodge laughed as she saw her, but she was good-natured and did -not want to see anyone in trouble. - -"Madame la Comtesse and _la petite_ Comtesse Margot are out," she said. -"I knew well you would have your walk for nothing; but behold! you -shall enter my humble dwelling. Le chapeau, why it is a figure of fun. -Where did you buy it, Mam'selle?" - -Louise was too cross to reply, but she was not too cross to accept the -shelter of the little lodge which was offered to her. She was not there -two or three minutes before who should walk in but Madame. - -Madame la Comtesse looked very charming. She stared fixedly at Louise -and Louise sprang to her feet. - -"I must speak to you," she said. "I must talk words all alone." - -"I mind not," said la Comtesse. "You will leave us, Susette!" - -"Then listen--you are a lying woman," said Louise, "and your -granddaughter, she serves in the _établissement_ of Madame Marcelle. -Behold for yourself, she sold me this chapeau!" - -"Never, never!" cried Madame. "But we will prove it. Come with me now -in my motor-car to the _établissement_ of Madame Marcelle. She tells -the truth in very deed." - -Louise did not seem to mind, a pleased smile wreathed her face. - -"You are the daughter of Grognan, the restaurant-keeper," remarked -Madame. - -"I am, I make no bones about it. I am proud of it, and of _mon père_." - -"In that you are right," exclaimed Madame. "Ah, how quickly we move, -and the rain falls in torrents. _Ma petite_ Comtesse, _ma chère petite_ -Comtesse is now enjoying her lessons of the French. I do not recognize -that chapeau as one belonging to the _établissement_ of Madame -Marcelle." - -"It was your granddaughter sold it to me," said Louise. - -"That is impossible," said Madame, calmly, "but we will soon find out. -What were you doing in the lodge belonging to the château?" - -"The woman gave me shelter," said Louise. "I had gone to acquaint M. le -Comte with the fact that you kept a shop and _la petite_ Comtesse was -the little shopkeeper." - -"And you saw _mon_ Alphonse?" - -"Ah, _oui, oui_," cried Louise, beginning to enjoy herself. - -Madame pulled the check-string and desired the chauffeur to fly--to put -on all the speed possible. Soon they reached the _établissement_. - -"Who sold this chapeau to Mademoiselle Grognan?" enquired la Comtesse. - -"I did," said Madame Marcelle. "She has not paid for it yet." - -"I admit no debts in the _établissement_," exclaimed Madame la -Comtesse. "Madame Marcelle, why did you allow such an ugly thing into -_le magasin_?" - -"It came by mistake," replied the poor, confused Madame. "The -mademoiselle liked it and I sold it to her. I only charged her forty -francs, for I thought it so ugly." - -"It is a screaming farce," said Madame la Comtesse. "Go back, -Mademoiselle. I will write this evening to _votre père_, the -restaurant-keeper, for the money." - -"Oh, but it pours, it drenches," cried Louise. - -"I care not, nay more, I am glad," said Madame. - -"You went with intention to act cruelly to me and mine. Madame -Marcelle, come back with me at once to the château--at once, at once! -Let the assistants serve here for the rest of the day." - -Thus and in this fashion was Mademoiselle served for her evil conduct. -Thus was she severely reprimanded by Grognan the restaurant-keeper, and -thus did Madame Marcelle explain to the much troubled Comte who had -really sold the chapeau to Mam'selle. - -"It was the chapeau that saved me," said the old Comte. "I was sinking -into one of my worst faints, which are to the life of the aged so -dangerous, when I looked at the chapeau and knew it could not be. _Ma -petite chérie_ could not act as that wicked daughter of the people -would try to make me believe." - -"Ah, _non_, M. le Comte," exclaimed Madame Marcelle, "the dignity of -_la petite_ is of the marvellous. When she enters my _établissement_, -simply to _buy_, thou dost understand, every one turns to look at the -beautiful _enfant_. She chooses for herself and her taste is superb." - -"Then that girl told a cruel lie," said the Comte. - -"Ah, _certainement_, monsieur." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -LE CABINET DE BEAUTÉ. - - -But little Margot was not to get off quite so easily. She was to have -her _trials_ the same as other people. There was not the slightest -doubt whatsoever that Margot had a nature far above the ordinary. It -was strong, it was brave, it had a sort of noble simplicity about -it. She was proud of her race, both on her father's and her mother's -side, but she could not see the slightest harm in assisting _la belle_ -grand'mère with the _établissement_. She did see, however, a good deal -of harm in annoying, nay more, in seriously injuring, the lives of two -dear old men, both of them in their own way the dearest old men in the -world. Of course The Desmond was the best of all--he was grand, noble, -superb; but there was also something _très magnifique_, according -to _la belle_ grand'mère, in Monsieur le Comte St. Juste. He was so -feeble, too, and so old; he must not be hurt for anything in the world. - -Margot thought nothing whatsoever about her supposed _dot_, but she -sympathised with la belle grand'mère in keeping all knowledge of _le -magasin_ from M. le Comte. The little Madame idolised the sweet girl, -and poured her troubles into those sympathetic ears. - -"Behold, behold!" she cried. "There would not be _l'argent_ for _mon_ -Alphonse if thou didst not do thy noble best; if I did not keep the -_établissement_ going. He wants his comforts, that aged and beloved -one." - -"Ah, _oui, je comprens_," said little Margot. - -And she did comprehend, and kept her word. - -After a few weeks had gone by, Madame la Comtesse gave orders to her -servants not to admit anyone, old or young, man or woman, into the -presence of M. le Comte. The servants assured her that they would obey -her to the very letter. They loved her because she was so bright and -gay and obliging. They did not in the least mind whether she kept a -_magasin_ or not. Did she not load them with gifts? Was there ever -quite so good a place to serve in as the Château St. Juste? - -Yes, they loved Madame, and they adored _la petite_ Comtesse. - -But it so happened that the old M. le Comte, lying against his pillows -of down, thought a great deal about his granddaughter. Henri was indeed -a boy to be proud of, but after all he was nothing to _la petite_. -He wasted _l'argent_; _la petite_ seemed never to spend anything. Was -justice being done to this charming little creature by the father of -Henri? He troubled himself about this. He became anxious. - -One day he spoke to Madame la Comtesse. - -"Madame," he said, "thou hast given up thy _établissement_?" - -"Ah, _oui_, _certainement_, Alphonse," was the quick answer of Madame. - -"Tell me now from the bottom of thy heart, Madame, what provision we -can make for _la petite_ Comtesse." - -Madame named a sum which certainly staggered the old man. - -"Thou must be _très riche_," he said. - -"Ah, _oui_, it is the will of God!" replied Madame. Then she added, -stroking his silvery hair and laying her piquant face close to his. -"Dost thou not remember, thou superb, angelic one, that on the day we -received la Comtesse, a notary came and settled on her the sum I have -mentioned?" - -"Ah, _oui_," answered M. le Comte. "I remember and yet I forget. The -aged, they always forget. It is the trial of old age not to remember." - -"It is _un fait accompli_," said Madame. "Fret not thyself, _chère_ -Alphonse." - -The old Comte smiled. - -"I like to think of our little one," he said, "always and ever -surrounded by the luxuries of life. When she is older, much older, we -will marry her to a man, young and beautiful and of great rank. She is -worthy of the best and she shall have the best." - -"_Mais oui, mais oui_," answered Madame. - -"But I have been thinking," pursued M. le Comte, "that her education is -not progressing. We could not permit her to return to the school, where -that ugly M'selle was taught to tell the black lies." - -"_Non_," said Madame. "_Certainement, non._" - -"But I want her to go to a school," said M. le Comte. "Why dost thou -frown, my adored Ninon?" - -"Because I am thinking," she replied. "There is but one school in Arles -worthy of _la petite_, and that is held by la Princesse de Pleury; but -alas, even that school is not what it used to be. There used to be -there only _les demoiselles_ the most refined, the highest in rank." - -"Not the grass-green, ha! ha!" laughed the Comte. - -"Thou art right, my adored one, not the grass-green. I, too, have -thought of the education of _la petite_. It is of the utmost -importance. Why not place her in the hands of a _gouvernante_? There -is one, M'selle de Close. She is connected with M'selle de Blanc. She -is of high rank and of great intelligence, and between M'selle de Close -and M'selle de Blanc, we can have _la petite_ taught in this, thine own -château, all the things that belong to the best society." - -"Of what age are those M'selles?" asked the Comte. - -"M'selle de Close is eighteen; M'selle le Blanc one year more. They are -young, but they are finished--ah, to the most complete!" - -"And what knowledge can they impart?" asked M. le Comte. - -"They'll teach her all those things that a young M'selle should know. -They will keep her mind, mark you, M. le Comte, as white as a white -marguerite, and they will impart to her those graces of society which -are essential to _le bon mari_ by-and-bye. They can come here day -about, at two of the clock, and spend until four with _la petite_." - -"Send them to me one at a time," said the Comte, "and let me interview -them alone." - -Accordingly Madame la Comtesse went that very day to a unique and -charming little flat in a unique and charming part of Arles. It was -called "_Le Cabinet de Beauté_. The lady who entered the room on the -arrival of Madame called herself Félicité. She held up her hands, -arched her brows and said: - -"Ah, Madame, have you come to me indeed? Have you come at last, that -I may perform on you my art? Behold how little it is, and how much. -It finishes never, see, Madame? Behold, I will mark out to you your -day! You must have the _chocolat_, you must rise never later than -eight o'clock, and promenade on foot for _les douches_. This exercise -preserves the form. Then, behold, the masseuse appears and makes -miracles of the hands. Afterwards you rest as is necessary, and M'selle -Blanc does the rest. Ah, but she is a veritable artist is M'selle -Blanc. You want us; you have come. I am at your feet, beautiful Madame!" - -"I want you not at all," said Madame la Comtesse. "The good God himself -has given unto me the cheeks of roses and the eyes so bright and the -figure so straight. But behold, listen! There is _ma petite_, the idol -of her grandfather, the adored of her _belle_ grand'mère. M. le Comte -knows nothing of my _établissement_, and he must never know, never, -never! There are things which all women of fashion learn, and I want -you, M'selle Close, and that other gracious lady, M'selle Blanc, to -come day about to the château in order to instruct _la petite_, but -you must not touch on the make up, _comprenez-vous_? It would be -fatal. _L'enfant toujours_; that mind so white must be kept white; but -you must teach her, M'selle Close, such things as the English and the -French and the German and the _géographie_ for two hours every other -day, and on the other days, M'selle Blanc shall teach her. You must be -at the château for two hours each day, but before anything is firmly -established, you must go to the château and acquaint M. le Comte with -the fact that you are a poor _gouvernante_, one of the high nobility. -You must present yourself to him as M'selle de Close, and your friend -must be M'selle de Blanc; and I will pay you well, ah well; that is, -if you keep strictly to your post; keep firmly to the lessons which I -have set you--the white heart to be kept white; the holy things to be -instructed to _la petite_, _comprenez-vous_?" - -"Ah, _oui_," said M'selle Close. "And you will pay well, Comtesse?" - -"According to your merits will I pay. I care not how much, so long as -it pleases _mon mari_. Get ready at once and I will drive you, M'selle -Close, to the Château St. Juste." - -M'selle certainly saw a good thing before her. She dressed according to -the directions of Madame very simply and quietly. She removed the rouge -from her cheeks and the artificial darkness from beneath her eyes. She -was no longer a pretty woman, but she was, according to Madame, one -with _l'air distingué_. - -Soon they reached the château. Little Margot had not yet returned home. -She was at her dancing class and was perfectly happy. - -Madame rushed gaily into the presence of _mon_ Alphonse. - -"I have found her and she is a treasure. Listen, harken, she belongs to -the nobility. She is M'selle de Close. Her friend also is M'selle de -Blanc. She is poor, but she is simple, aristocratic, learned. She will -teach thy granddaughter for two hours every second day. On alternate -days M'selle de Blanc will do likewise. I have brought her back with me -for thee to see." - -"Ah, but I am tired!" said the Comte. "I did not know that thou wouldst -be _si vite, ma_ Comtesse." - -"Ah, but _vite_ is the word," cried la Comtesse; "for youth it flies, -months go by, years go by. Behold, whilst thou art looking round, -taking a little nap--ah, no more, just a little nap, _la petite_ will -grow up. Wilt thou, then, see M'selle de Close?" - -"Yes, thou art ever right, Comtesse," replied the old Comte. "Present -me to M'selle. I will treat her with that courtesy which a lady should -receive." - -Now M'selle Close, as she was really called knew well where her bread -was buttered, and she was in consequence quite able to answer the -enquiries made by that gracious and most aristocratic old person, M. le -Comte. - -"I will try you for one month," he said. "You will be here at two to -the minute to-morrow, and then, behold! it will be my pleasure to be -present while you instruct my granddaughter." - -But here M'selle drew up her head in a very haughty way. - -"Alas, M. le Comte," she said. "I am poor and low in the world, but I -have my little pride, my last rag of possession. I share that rag with -my beloved friend, M'selle de Blanc. We could not be treated as though -we meant to impart evil, we must be trusted or we can do nothing. We -must decline this generous offer of yours, M. le Comte, unless we are -treated as ladies of rank. _La petite_ Comtesse will not suffer at our -hands, but we must teach her each in our turn alone. Is it to be, M. le -Comte? For there is the house of one who seeks our services, and we can -go there if you do not permit." - -"For one month I permit," said the Comte. "I did not mean to hurt -your feelings, M'selle. I was only full of interest at the thought of -listening to the knowledge which you will pour into the ears of _la -petite_ Comtesse." - -"Ah, well, M'sieur, I cannot change, I await your decision." - -"You shall teach her alone," said M. le Comte. "Send your friend to see -me to-morrow and come yourself as arranged, to begin those instructions -which demoiselles of rank require." - -"Ah, _oui_, M'sieur, _oui_, you indeed belong, as I do myself, to the -_ancienne noblesse_." - -The arrangement was quickly arrived at. The two ladies were interviewed -by M'sieur le Comte, and both completely had their own way with him. -Madame la Comtesse had a little talk with Margot, and on a certain -Thursday the lessons so unique and perfect began. - -Unique and perfect they were not, but they interested Margot, who -listened with the colour rising to her cheeks and her velvety -black-brown eyes fixed on the faces of her teachers. She still pursued -her French in the town of Arles and talked it with M'selles de Close -and de Blanc. She also read a little history, all in the French tongue, -but occasionally her lovely eyes were fixed with a sort of dull -amazement on the faces of these faded women, who no longer dressed to -captivate their customers at the _Cabinet de Beauté_, showed their -true age which was anything but young. - -When the first week was over and the ladies had departed, little Margot -skipped into her grandfather's room, flung herself on her knees by his -side, and told him about _les pauvres gouvernantes_. - -"Dost thou like them, my little one?" asked M. le Comte. - -"No, grandpère," was the reply. - -"Why dost thou say that? Thy words arrest and alarm me." - -"They are only wooden dolls," said _la petite_ Comtesse. "They have no -thoughts. I do not think they can instruct me, for I--I wish not to be -vain, but I know more than they do." - -M. le Comte was much distressed at hearing this. - -"I like thy teaching best, grandpère. Tell them to go and come back no -more." - -"I have engaged them for a month, _ma pauvre petite_. Thou must even -bear with them for a month, _mon ange_, and then they shall go. But say -not to them that they shall go!" - -"_Non, non, mon_ grandpère, not for the world," said Margot. - -The month came to an end. Margot endured it because she began to teach -the aged, ignorant governesses herself. She found the task quite -agreeable and did not mind what the ladies felt; in fact, they were -fascinated by her talk and found her pretty speeches and gay manners -truly diverting. They were earning large sums of money and had nothing -to do. They were not teaching, they were being taught. - -At last the day came when the thunderbolt fell. Margot was sent up to -her room. The two ladies arrived in a hurry together by special request -of M. le Comte. - -Madame looked at them with anxious eyes. "I did not know that you were -quite so ignorant, Félicité," she said, "nor you, Thérèse. I have given -_mon mari l'argent_ to pay you both, but my poor friends, behold, you -must come here no more!" - -The astonished ladies were received by M. le Comte. He received them -civilly but with a certain distance. He said he had other views for _la -petite_. He paid them their month's money, which Madame had given him -for the purpose, and they walked down the neatly kept avenue, burning -rage in their hearts. Why had they made themselves so ugly for so poor -a reward? Suddenly, as they were approaching Arles, hoping not to be -recognised, whom should they see coming to meet them but several girls -belonging to the school of la Princesse de Fleury! Amongst these girls -was Louise Grognan. Most of the girls took no notice whatsoever of the -faded-looking old ladies, but Louise recognised them. Quick as thought -she made up her mind. She said a word to her companion, explained that -she knew the _chères demoiselles_, and presently was walking by their -sides. - -"You keep the _Cabinet de Beauté_?" she said. - -"We do and we have almost ruined ourselves for nothing," said M'selle -Close. Tears crept between her eyelids. - -"Tell me everything," said Louise, "and perhaps I can help." - -"You! How can you possibly help?" - -"Well, at least tell me; I will do my best." - -So the old ladies described how they had to give up their profession. -They could no longer use the masseuse on the hand nor the rouge on -the cheeks. They could no longer direct as they used to do, the daily -programme of their pupils. Everything was at an end because, forsooth, -Madame la Comtesse St. Juste required the best part of the day for -one of these ladies; turn about truly, ah, yes, turn about, to teach -_la petite_ Comtesse. But, behold, they could not teach. It was true, -alas, more than true! They could give vast instructions as to massage -and the brushing of the hair and the delicate touch of rouge on the -cheeks but what did they know of German or of geography? The world -for them consisted of _la belle_ France. Was there another land? Ah, -well, they did not know of it. Still _la charmante petite_ Comtesse was -all that was elegant and delightful, and she would beyond doubt have a -very great _dot_ some day, and she would marry according to the French -custom into the high nobility. They found it tiresome to sit with the -child and teach her nothing, but behold she taught them, and she knew, -ah, ten times as much as they did! It was wonderful to listen to her. -There were other countries--Angleterre, Irlande, a country called -Germany, and lands many and wonderful across the deep, deep sea. It was -like listening to a fairy tale to hear _la petite_ talk, and they were -getting a good salary. Ah, _oui, très bien, n'est-ce pas_! But behold, -the old Comte, he was angry, and _la petite_ Comtesse must have told -him things. She looked true at heart, but she was not true at heart; -and behold, undoubtedly, she had enlightened M. le Comte concerning -them. They were sent away in disgrace. Their hearts were broken. - -"Do you want your revenge?" asked Louise. - -"Revenge, _certainement_, but could there be revenge?" - -"I tell you there can," said Louise. "I failed, but you can succeed. -You, Félicité Close, will receive me in your _Cabinet de Beauté_ -to-morrow, and behold, you will manicure my hands, and while so doing, -I--I myself will enlighten you and you shall avenge yourselves upon the -Comte." - -"_C'est bien, c'est bien_," murmured M'selle Blanc. - -"At two o'clock to-morrow I will arrive," said Louise. "Keep me not -waiting, I beseech of you, M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc. I will -teach you both how to avenge yourselves on M'sieur le Comte at the -Château St. Juste." - -Accordingly Louise returned home in the highest spirits, and wrote a -letter of rapture to Tilly at Clapham Common. - -"There is still of the hope," she wrote, "the hope that never dies. -Keep up your spirits, Matilda Raynes. Most unexpectedly has the hope -arisen. It fills the sky like the most beautiful sunset. Behold, it is -golden and close at hand. I shall have earned my sixty francs, and thou -wilt invite me to thy château of renown in the aristocratic quarter -called Clapham Common. I will visit you in Angleterre, and in Clapham -Common we shall clasp hands and meet heart to heart." - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -A CONSPIRACY. - - -Certainly Madame la Princesse de Fleury kept her school with a sort of -easy nonchalance, which was much appreciated by the girls. In especial, -these girls liked their half-holidays, when they could wander about -pretty much as they pleased. It is true that the boarders had to submit -to a certain amount of restraint, but as quite half the school were -day girls they had only to say that they were going home to visit -their dear relations, absolutely to satisfy that very innocent lady la -Princesse. - -Now, Louise lived at Arles. Her father's restaurant was not far from -the great school, and not far away again was the mansion where Louise -slept each night, and at times, half-holidays and such like, enjoyed -the pleasure of her friends' company. The day following that on which -she met M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc was a half-holiday, and as -her father supplied her freely with cash, she had whispered to one or -two companions of a fete, ah, _très ravissant_, where certain of her -dearest friends could join her and eat _chocolats_ and cakes to their -hearts' delight. But Louise did not dare to lose this most precious -half-holiday. She accordingly announced to her friends, Marcella and -Berthe, that they must put off their time of _ravissement_ until the -next half-holiday, for behold! consider! she, Louise, had work of the -most particular to do. It was urgent, it was immediate--it had to come -at once, at once. - -The girls, of course, had to submit, and Louise, dressing herself as -gracefully as she could, appeared at the _Cabinet de Beauté_ at the -hour named. - -She was received at once by the two ladies, was shown into a private -room, and while one manicured her finger-nails, and the other made of -her hair an arrangement the most perfect, she told her story. She said -what she required. She also declared that when the deed was done, ah, -_riche, très riche_ would be the reward. - -"_Mon père_, he has much _d'argent_," said Louise. "He will pay well. -Now listen, M'selle Blanc and M'selle Close. You went as _gouvernantes_ -to _la petite_ Comtesse." - -"Ah, _oui, oui_," said the ladies, "and badly, horribly were we -treated. It was the doing of _l'enfant_; there is no doubt she is a -snake in the grass." - -"I would say she was a green lizard on the sunny wall," said Louise. - -"Ah, make me not to shudder, M'selle Grognan." - -"Now, I want to tell you about _la petite_ Comtesse," continued Louise. -"She is the daughter, it is true, of the late Comte Henri St. Juste, -and her grandfather is the Comte St. Juste. She has, therefore, a right -to her title of _la petite_ Comtesse, but behold, do you think she -keeps to that which we desire? Ah, _non, non_, far from that. Would you -suppose that _la petite_ sold me this chapeau?" for Louise was wearing -the grass-green chapeau on purpose. - -"_Non, non_," exclaimed both ladies. "It is perfect, assuredly, but -_la petite_, she does not sell--to sell is to belong to us. We sell, -thy father, M'selle, _he_ sells; but _la petite_ she belongs to the -nobility. I hate them, _pour moi_, still they exist." - -"Now will you listen, M'selle Blanc," exclaimed Louise. "It is -true, what I tell you--it is true what I tell you both. M'selle has -a grand'père, and also _la belle_ grand'mère employs her in her -_magasin_--kept it is _supposed_ by Madame Marcelle, but really it -flourishes because of the rare taste of _la petite_ Comtesse Margot. -She goes there daily for two hours a day, and behold! the chapeaux -they vanish; the robes they disappear; the dainty ribbons and sashes -and gloves, they are not; the embroidered stockings they are not; the -shoes they are not; and all because of the taste of _la petite_. Think -you that the _établissement_ would flourish without _la petite_? Well, -now, M. le Comte St. Juste, he knows nothing of this, but I want you -both to enlighten him. I have my reasons which I need not disclose; -will you both, _chères M'selles_, dress as the youngest do--ah, so -beautifully; make the variety of the _toilette_, the change that -pleases, that enchants? Wear a _chapeau noir_, M'selle Blanc, garnished -with roses _la reine_; and you, M'selle Close, wear _le petit chapeau -avec une plume noire et sans_ roses. Oh, la, la, you will both look but -eighteen; then go straight to see M'sieur the Comte St. Juste, wearing -the touch of rouge--only the mere touch--and that tone of darkness -under the eyes which gives the expression so _nouvelle et si jeune_. -You will know what to do. Do not allude to the fact that you came as -_gouvernantes_ alternate days to the little snake in the grass and the -little green lizard basking in the sun. Speak to him as strangers. Have -you got any friends whose names you could assume for the purpose?" - -The ladies knew many of the noblesse. They could, ah, _oui, -certainement_, choose the names. - -"Ah, well, go, my good friends, and fascinate the ancient Comte. He -will admire, he will adore. He is susceptible to the charms of beauty. -When you have won his confidence he will talk of your chapeau, M'selle -Blanc, and yours, M'selle Close; and then you must raise the hands -in rapture, and talk and talk and talk, and when you have roused his -enthusiasm, you must tell him that these things were chosen and sold to -you by one _très jeune_ and _très belle_. Excite his interest; tell him -that there never was one with quite such taste as that _jeune petite_. -He will offer to go with you to see that young _marvel_, and behold! -you will take him. You will go in my car, and you will take him with -you into the town and into the _établissement_; and he will see _la -petite_ Comtesse; he will know for himself what his granddaughter does. -The little green lizard will shine no longer in the sun; the little -green snake in the grass must from henceforth conceal herself; and I, -see! I will reward you both." - -"How much?" asked M'selle Blanc, who felt considerably afraid of M. le -Comte. - -"I will ask _mon père_; I will tell him all. What do you say to being -robed from head to foot by _la petite_ Comtesse in the _établissement_ -Marcelle? Think what a joy that will be! Such a perfect reward. Then -listen again--I know mothers and elder sisters of M'selles in my -school; they shall come to you--oh! in numbers, to have their youth -renewed. Is not that enough?" - -M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc thought that the terms were sufficient -and arranged to go on the following morning to visit M. le Comte. -Meanwhile M'selle was to send them _les chapeaux ravissants_, -admirable, which they were to wear for the occasion. They must look -truly _jeunes_ demoiselles. - -"Now then, I must go, but I will send the chapeaux, rest assured." - -Louise departed, and M'selle Blanc and M'selle Close consulted together -how they were to turn themselves into _jeunes_ demoiselles. They -had, it is true, many patrons, and after consulting for a short time -together, they decided to adopt the names of two young ladies who had -come to the _Cabinet de Beauté_ to have their hands manicured, and who -belonged to the _noblesse_. - -These young ladies, they were assured, were absent from home at -present. They might with safety take their names. They were the -daughters of the Marquis Odile. They had only lately taken a house at -Arles, where they lived with their father and mother, and were called -the Marquise Clotilde and the Marquise Rose. - -"Ah," exclaimed M'selle Blanc, "that name will suit my _chapeau noir_, -garnished with roses _la reine_." - -The Marquise Clotilde would look very sweet indeed in her _très petit -chapeau_. - -The chapeaux arrived, all in good time. The ladies arranged themselves -in fear and trembling; saw that they could appear with perfect ease -as _les jeunes_ demoiselles; and went to bed that night with hearts -beating high with excitement. Ah, but the revenge was good, and the -adventure of the whole thing was exciting. - -They scarcely slept that night for thinking of their triumph. Early -the next morning, by the explicit directions of Louise, they attired -themselves in dresses of pure white with little sashes of blue. The -ravishing hats were perched on their heads, the slight touch of rouge -was delicately applied to each faded cheek, and then large veils were -put on to cover any possible defects. - -They were naturally slight in figure. Sharp at ten in the morning, at -the very hour when Louise told them it would be right for them to go, -they started on their mission to the Château St. Juste. Louise had sent -one of her father's cars for them. This was to wait to bring them back -again. - -Madame la Comtesse was always out at that hour. She was in reality -occupied in the back premises of the _établissement_; for Madame -Marcelle was little better than a figurehead. The old Comte was alone. -He felt well and happy--the day was a mild one. He thought he would -enjoy the outside air. He would even go in the direction of the peach -garden. - -Suddenly, as he was approaching it, he raised his delicate old hand to -protect his sunken, dark eyes, and to watch in surprise an automobile -which was coming quickly down the avenue. He wanted to fly; but a check -string was applied, the chauffeur stopped _à l'instant_, and two pretty -girls approached--the Marquises Odile, connections of his. Ah, yes, -assuredly. They introduced themselves, they talked, they chatted. - -One Marquise, the Marquise Clotilde, insisted on his taking her arm; -the Marquise Rose walked at his other side. He forgot his peach garden -in the pleasure of talking to them. He called them _très douce et très -belle_. He had not the faintest suspicion that they were the withered -and ugly _gouvernantes_ whom he had turned away with scorn a little -while ago. - -"Ah, but I must call on your esteemed father, Marquise Clotilde. He is -younger than I am, alas, but I will call, _certainement_; and for you, -_ma belle_ Rose, let me see if I can give you something as ravishing -out of my garden as those roses which you wear in your chapeau." - -"Did you ever see a chapeau more _très belle_?" said the Marquise Rose. - -"It is of the most perfect," said the old Comte. - -"There is a wondrous lady who sells these things," said Marquise -Clotilde. "She sells them at an _établissement_ kept by a certain -Madame Marcelle. We buy our things there. We have reconstructed -ourselves since we came to Arles. The young m'selle, _si jeune et si -belle_, does better for us than any of the Parisian _magasins_." - -"I can scarcely believe that," said le Comte. - -"Will you not come with us, M. le Comte, and see for yourself? Our -car waits your orders. The air is of the spring, reviving with its -mildness. Get in, M'sieur, get in. We will take you in a flash to the -_établissement_, and you will see _la belle petite_ with the taste so -superb. Afterwards we will go and visit _mon père_." - -The old Comte felt in a mood for adventure. These demoiselles were very -charming, and he would like himself to see _la petite_ who had the -taste so rare and simple. - -Accordingly he went as far as the house, leaning now on the arm of -the Marquise Rose, but holding the hand of the Marquise Clotilde. He -desired his valet to clothe him in his coat of fur and to place at -his feet a hot bottle. The automobile was closed by his desire. _Les -jeunes_ demoiselles nearly fainted with the heat, but their task would -soon be over; their revenge would be complete and their reward would be -in their hands. - -They chattered all the way with the gay prattle of young birds. The -very old Comte thought how delightful was youth; he was glad, very -glad, to meet his own relations. - -At last they stopped at the _établissement_. The old Comte got out, -and the les Marquises accompanied him--all seemed going well, of the -best. The assistants bowed; the shopwalkers were ready to take these -distinguished strangers to whatever department they pleased. - -The Comte felt his cheeks flush with eagerness. This was really a -very gay adventure. He liked gay adventures; but at that moment there -was standing, just behind the Marquises and the Comte, _la petite_ -Comtesse. She had gone herself to fetch a certain lace for a certain -customer. One glance served to pierce the disguise of the ugly -_gouvernantes_; one glance told to her horror-stricken eyes that _mon_ -grandpère le Comte was in the _établissement_. - -Quickly, like a flash, she entered that part of the _magasin_ which -was kept for underclothing, and with which she had nothing to do. From -there she got into the back premises, where she beheld _la belle_ -grand'mère. - -"Oh, hide me, hide me," cried little Margot; "I will tell thee what has -occurred. Those _gouvernantes_ so ignorant are in the _établissement_ -with grandpère. They are powdered and rouged and wearing our -_chapeaux_--they are pretending the youth. Ah, but if he knows, if he -sees, it will break his heart." - -"Fret not thyself, _ma petite_," said _la belle_ grand'mère. "Stay -quietly with me. Thou wilt be asked for of necessity, but I will say -that thou hast _mal à la tête_." - -"But _non_, grand'mère," cried little Margot, "behold, it is not _mal à -la tête_; it is sorrow at the heart." - -"Well, that suffices, _mon enfant_." - -The Comte, his cheeks growing pinker, his eyes brighter, accompanied by -those charming demoiselles, the young Marquises, asked everywhere for -_la petite_, _la petite_, the lady who had the taste so ravishing; but -although many were waiting for her, there was no sign of _la petite_. - -A message came at last to say that she was indisposed for that one -morning and could not appear. - -The ladies felt a keen and unaccountable sense of disappointment. -The old Comte knew that the adventure was over, but he would occupy -himself by buying a brooch of the very finest sapphires for his little -Margot. - -The Ladies Odile stood behind him. It was just at that moment that two -very beautiful, dark young girls, accompanied by a stately gentleman -in middle life, entered the _établissement_. The girls were tall; -they were really very young; they had a glow of health, not rouge on -their cheeks. The eldest called herself Rose, the other was Clotilde. -Suddenly the father of these fair young girls made a graceful plunge -forward. It was rapid, and only a Frenchman could do it without -awkwardness. - -He seized the hand of M. le Comte. - -"Ah, behold, behold, _mon ami_," he said, "what joy is here. I came to -get some pretty trifles for my daughters, Rose and Clotilde; but I will -present them first to thee, _mon ami_. I have heard wonderful stories -of this _établissement_. We are anxious to see _the little wonder_, as -she is called. Ah, we see her not! Clotilde, make thy curtsey to M. le -Comte St. Juste; Rose, do thou likewise." - -"But--but----" said the astonished and amazed old Comte. "But--but----" -mimicked the father of Rose and Clotilde. "I am the Marquis Odile. Thy -cousin and thy friend, _mon ami_." - -"I am bewildered," said the poor old Comte. "All day Rose and Clotilde -have been with me. They brought me here; I thought them _charmantes_; -but I see them not. What does all this mean?" - -The trembling, terrified ladies who kept the _Cabinet de Beauté_ -knew only too well what it all meant. The real Marquis and the real -Marquises had appeared in the flesh. As fast as their trembling legs -could carry them, they reached the door. They got into the automobile -and drove to the _Cabinet de Beauté_. - -"We have had a terrible escape," murmured M'selle Blanc. "Never, never -will I undertake such work again," said M'selle Close. - -Tremblingly they got off their hats and appeared in their usual dress. - -The Marquis brought the Comte back to his château in his own -automobile. The young Marquises Rose and Clotilde made him lie down, -and petted him and talked to him as though they were his daughters. - -When _la pauvre_ grand'mère entered, an hour or so later, she found her -beloved one calm and easy in his mind. It was only after M. le Marquis -and his beautiful young daughters had gone that he told her of his very -great adventure. - -"It was the biggest of all my life," he said. "Two ladies, _très -belles_ and _très jeunes_, appeared and introduced themselves as -_mes cousines_, _les_ Marquises Rose _et_ Clotilde. Ah, but they were -_charmantes_. Then behold, they spoke to me of a wonder, a _très -petite_ wonder in the _établissement_ of Madame Marcelle. They asked me -to go with them to see her, and I went." - -"Ah, but thou naughty one; thou adorable naughty one," said la Comtesse. - -"But behold, listen," continued the old man. "I enjoyed myself; they -were so gay, so young, so brilliant in the cheeks, so dainty in the -chapeaux. Then I arrived. They took me in their own car; but I could -not see that _petite_ wonder, who seems to rule the _établissement_; -and suddenly, behold, the real Marquis Odile appeared with his -beautiful daughters, Rose and Clotilde. Ah, but it was an adventure; -it was wonderful. Thinkest thou, Madame beloved, that the others -were--were spirits? I looked to right, I looked to left, and nowhere -could I see them after the Marquis appeared. Thinkest thou they were -spirits, Madame la Comtesse?" - -"They were wicked women," said Madame. "They thought to take thee in, -but they failed." - -"Ah, but indeed they were not wicked," said M. le Comte. "They looked -young and elegant. How gently did the one who called herself Clotilde -support my feeble steps; and how admirable were the manners of the one -called Rose. I will amuse myself well this afternoon in telling the -story of this queer adventure to _la petite_ Comtesse." - -"Please thyself, _mon_ Alphonse; but now lie quietly and rest, while I -prepare the bouillon which will nourish thee after those adventures, -which only ought to happen to the young." - -The entire story was repeated to Margot when she appeared on the scene; -but the old man seemed now dull and drowsy and stupid. Perhaps he was -too old for adventures--he could not say. As the evening advanced, he -talked in a puzzled way of two Marquises called Rose, and two Marquises -called Clotilde, and of a "little wonder" in a certain _établissement_. -He was decidedly feverish, and Margot held his hand and soothed him as -only _she_ knew how. - -"Oh the wicked, wicked women," sobbed _la belle_ grand'mère, after the -doctor had come and gone. "The wicked, wicked women, to injure _mon_ -Alphonse." - -When Margot had a minute of time to attend to _la belle_ grand'mère, -she told her that the false Marquises were only her hideous old -_gouvernantes_ dressed up to look young, and that she herself meant to -give them a piece of her mind. - -"I mean to spend the entire night with grandpère," she said. "Weep -not, _ma belle_ grand'mère. He got a shock, and only _I_ can keep him -from being puzzled by the two names--the two names twice over. I will -go to him, _ma belle_ grand'mère." - -"Yes, go, my blessed child," said the little Madame; and she felt at -that moment that even the _dot_ for Margot, and her _établissement_, -were as nothing compared to _mon_ Alphonse--_mon_ Alphonse the -adorable, the love of her life. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -THE PALACE OF TRUTH. - - -In the morning, the old Comte St. Juste was less feverish, but -nevertheless not himself. He had, as he complained, a confused -feeling. The world was full of Roses--oh, the most _charmantes_--and -of Clotildes equally divine. They were coming up the avenue in -automobiles, they were entering the room, they were sitting with him, -they were pouring into his ear the fact that his mission was not -accomplished. He had gone to the _établissement_, but he had not seen -_the little wonder_. He could not rest until he saw her. In vain Margot -tried to soothe him. She longed beyond words to quiet his mind by -telling him the simple truth--that she was _la petite_, _she_ was the -little wonder of the _établissement_ Marcelle. But when she hinted at -such a proceeding to _la belle_ grand'mère, that poor woman gave a cry -of bitter horror. - -"Thou wilt kill _mon_ Alphonse; thou _wilt_ not be so cruel, thou -_canst_ not be so cruel." - -"Ah, but I ought, I ought," sobbed Margot. - -Madame la grand'mère consulted with the doctor. - -"M. _le docteur_ said that if anything was told at the present moment -to excite the very old man, it would be his death; if Margot would not -promise silence, she must keep out of the room." - -"It will soothe him, _ma belle_ grand'mère," cried little Margot. - -Nevertheless la Comtesse kept the child from the sick man's room. -One hour he grew better, another hour weaker, his strength kept -fluctuating; then he began to watch the door. - -"It will soon be time for _la petite_ Comtesse to return; I want _la -petite_," he said to his wife. - -The distracted woman kept on telling him that she would soon appear; -the Comte kept on listening; he fixed his sunken eyes on the clock. - -"How soon will the time fly?" he cried impatiently; "how soon will _la -petite_ be in these arms?" Poor little Margot was upstairs, struggling -with the great despair that had visited her. The dear old man--the -dearest old man in all the world except The Desmond--why was she not -with him?--how wicked of people to tell lies; she would never tell -another. She resolved as soon as she returned to Desmondstown to tell -The Desmond also the whole truth. - -Toward evening the Comte's temperature went down; it went down to -normal--below normal--far below. Madame was thankful, thinking the -worst was over. - -The old man dropped into a quiet sleep; he looked very aged in that -sleep. The doctor came in. Madame exclaimed excitedly: - -"Ah, Monsieur _le docteur_, I have news of the best. His temperature -is----" - -Then she suddenly stopped speaking--the doctor's face was very grave. -He prepared a strong stimulant and forced the old man to swallow it in -teaspoonfuls. Then he went into another room with Madame la Comtesse. - -"What is the matter?" he said. "Has the child betrayed you?" - -"_Non, non_," replied Madame. "I have put her upstairs, but he thinks -she is still at school at Arles--learning, ever learning; dancing, ever -dancing; making herself _très jolie_--ah, that is what he thinks, _mon_ -adored one." - -"Listen, Madame," said the doctor. "Your husband is ill, very ill -indeed. Keep the little one away if you can, but if not, let her go to -him. It may be possible that the truth and the truth alone may save him -even now. I will come back in two hours. Try to save him from shock, if -possible; but behold! if it is necessary, fetch _la petite_ Comtesse." - -The doctor departed and Madame went back to her husband's bedside. He -was talking in a rambling, feeble way, and kept looking first at the -clock and then at the door. - -"_La petite_, she does not arrive," he said suddenly. As suddenly a -thought flashed through the mind of la Comtesse. - -"She will not be here till late to-night, _mon_ Alphonse," was her -reply. "She has been asked to partake of _tisane_ with her cousins, the -Marquises Clotilde _et_ Rose. She will have much to tell thee when she -does enter thy room." - -"Ah," said the poor old Comte feebly, "is she also one of those who -overlook the old, the very aged, when they can hardly speak, hardly -think? Time flies for us both--ah, _ma petite_ Comtesse, _mon ange_, I -may not be here if thou dost delay. I want her to tell me----" - -"What, my unhappy one?" asked his wife. - -"All about that wonderful _petite_ who performs such extraordinary -feats at the _établissement_ which once was thine, my Ninon." - -All of a sudden the heart of Ninon rose in a great wave. It seemed to -struggle for utterance. She could scarcely contain herself. - -"Harken, _mon_ Alphonse," she said. "I will go myself and see whether -the automobile has yet returned." - -"Ah, do, my Ninon," replied the Comte. "Thou, at least, hast always -been faithful and true--faithful, loving and true. I trust thee to the -uttermost." - -The poor woman staggered out of the room. She was met by little Margot, -who was standing in the passage, and whose face was the colour of a -white sheet. Her deep, dark eyes were full of untold misery. - -"_Belle_ grand'mère," she began--but grand'mère had no words to express -her feelings. She pointed to the door where the sick man lay. - -"Thou mayst save him. Thou hast my permission," she said in the lowest -whisper; and little Margot with her gentle step entered the darkened -room. - -She knew at once that it was a trifle too hot. She opened wide one of -the French windows; she let in the soft air, which, winter-time as it -was in most places, felt like summer here. The old man breathed more -easily. He turned on his pillow. He opened his eyes, so very sunken -in his head, but they lit up with a joy beyond expression when he saw -little Margot. - -"Ah, I am weak, _mon enfant_," he said. "But thou hast come, _ma -petite_. Put thy little hand on mine. There is life in thy little -hand; lay it on mine. Ah, _ma petite_, how greatly do I love thee." - -"And I thee, _mon_ grandpère," cried Margot. - -"Tell me," said the Comte, after a few minutes' silence, during which -Margot had fed him with some of the doctor's restorative--"tell me -what thou didst do at the _établissement_ to-day. Didst thou buy a -chapeau?--didst thou watch the _little wonder_ as she sold chapeaux and -robes for Madame Marcelle?" - -"I was not there at all to-day, grandpère." - -"Ah, _ma petite_, but wast thou there yesterday?" - -"_Mais oui_," said Margot. - -"And didst thou perchance see the _little wonder_?" - -"I saw her; she is not a wonder." - -"Ah, _ma petite_, be thou not of the jealous ones!" said the old man. -"That would not be worthy of thee. Thou hast thy gifts; she has hers. -Her chapeaux, they are perfect. Her taste, it is what I never saw -before. Tell me about her, _chérie_." - -"I will," said Margot, "if thou, _mon_ grandpère, will let me put both -of my hands round one of thine, and if thou wilt promise not to--not to -turn me away afterwards." - -"Turn thee away, best beloved, it couldn't be." - -"Ah, but it might be," said little Margot. "There is a burden on thy -mind; there is a--I call it not a _fear_, but it approaches in the -direction of a fear. _La petite_ who sells _les_ chapeaux, _les_ robes -and all the other articles of refinement in the _établissement_, is -_thine own Margot_. Dost thou hear me? I will not keep it back from -thee any longer. _La pauvre belle_ grand'mère thought that it was best -for thee not to know, but there are cruel people in the world who tried -to tell thee, but failed, so now _I_ tell thee. The ladies who came -here yesterday were of the cruel sort; the girl in the grass-green hat -was of the cruel sort; but thy Margot--thy Margot--_mon_ grandpère, art -thou angry?" - -"With thee? _Mais non--non!_" His face was whiter than ever; he could -scarcely swallow. After a little he seemed to gather strength. - -"Call thy _belle_ grand'mère back to me, Margot," he said. - -Margot fetched the poor woman. She came in, trembling from head to foot. - -"I have told him; he had to know," whispered Margot. - -The old man's eyes were bright now with some of the brightness of yore; -his voice was firmer, too. - -"Listen, Ninon," he said, "behold! Keep thy hand in mine, Margot, -beloved. Ninon, I thought thou wert truthful, and I thought this -child truthful, but she, _la petite_, has told me all the truth -at last. I cannot appear before the Great Almighty with the sin of -pride on my soul. Behold, now, we are all alike in Heaven; only make -me one promise, Ninon. Never again shall this little one enter the -_établissement_ of Madame Marcelle, never except to buy." - -"She shall not, _mon_ Alphonse," said Ninon, falling at his side and -burying her face in the counterpane and beginning to weep. - -"Thy tears distress me," said the old man. "Behold _la petite_, she -does not weep." - -"I come of those who regard tears as not wise," said Margot; "but, -behold! I promise thee, grandpère, I promise with all--all my heart. I -will never again sell in the _établissement_ Marcelle." - -"Then see! how happy I am," said M. le Comte. "I am in the palace of -truth. For a long time I lived in the palace of lies; gorgeous in -colour was that palace and very beautiful to the senses, nevertheless -it was the palace of lies. Now I breathe the healthy air of truth. Thou -hast spoken, _mon enfant_; thou hast promised, _ma_ Ninon; there is no -pride left. For me, I also did wrong. The spirit of pride led me wrong." - -"Then, grand'mère, we are all happy together," said Margot; "but -see!--do not talk, he has fallen asleep." - -The old Comte St. Juste had fallen asleep, and there was a lovely -smile, something like that of an angel, on his face. The child and the -woman watched him. The doctor came in presently and shook his head. He -deliberately took a seat in the room and partly closed the window which -Margot had opened. - -"The restorative, _M. le docteur_," cried poor Madame. - -"He could not swallow now," said the doctor, "but I will stay; yes, I -will stay to the end." - -The end came in the early hours of the morning. The old Comte slipped -silently, softly and painlessly out of this life into a better one; -and poor _belle_ grand'mère cried as though her heart would break, -but Margot did not cry. She made wreaths of violets, out of their own -garden, to surround him. She was never idle for a moment. She put in -his hands the Rose of France. - -He had lost the look of age; he had slipped back twenty, even thirty -years; but for his white hair, he did not look so very old. - -"It is because the angels have kissed him," said little Margot. - -Madame wept nearly the whole of the day; but Margot kept quiet, -thoughtful, busy. She had much to do for _la belle_ grand'mère. - -Toward evening the tired woman lay down and slept; and little Margot -sat in the room with her dead grandfather, where the great wax candles -were lighted--seven at the head of the bed, and seven at the feet. The -room was full of the scent of violets. - -"If that is death, I should like to go, too, some day," thought little -Margot. - -All in a moment, she observed the sweet smile on the lips of the dead -man, and there came a lump in her throat. Had she not remembered that -she was a Desmond she might have cried; but being a Desmond she kept -back her tears. - -The servants sat in the passage outside. They were surprised that -Margot should like to be alone with the dead; but Margot was without -fear because she loved so dearly. - -"I am glad I told him," she said once or twice to herself; and then she -thought of The Desmond and resolved that she would tell him, too, for -lies were not of the Kingdom of God, and she wanted to belong to that -kingdom and to that alone. What did a _dot_ matter?--what did riches -matter? "_Pauvre belle_ grand'mère," thought the little girl. "I will -always uphold her and strengthen her and help her in my little, poor -way; but she shall not spend her money on me." - -After the funeral the will was read. - -Fergus Desmond and Uncle Jacko came over for the service and the after -ceremony. Margot was quietly told of the extent of the funds which -would be at her disposal when she came of age, or before that if she -married. They were her French grandfather's present to his beloved -grandchild. - -Poor _la belle_ grand'mère looked with anguish at Margot. Margot took -her hand. - -"I must speak the truth, and now," she said. "_Mon_ grandpère was rich -only because of this most dear lady; and I will not take the money, no, -not a penny of it. She earned it for him, _for him_!" - -"You cannot refuse," said the notary. "See, there was a deed of gift -made to you. The dead would walk if you did refuse;" but Margot said -gently and firmly that she did not believe in that sort of thing, for -_chère_ grandpère was in the heavenly garden with God, and that anyhow -_she_ now meant to make a deed of gift. - -All those present turned and stared at her. - -"Behold!" she cried. "The _dot_ was arranged for me, who care not -for money at all. I give back every farthing of it to _la belle_ -grand'mère; and I will come and see her once at least every year; and -I love her, for she has a true, brave heart; but now I must go back to -The Desmond, for I hear his voice calling me across the waters." - -All in vain did _la belle_ grand'mère implore of little Margot not to -make the deed of gift for her; to forget her--not to think of her at -all; but Margot could never forget, and would never take the money. - -In the end her wishes were carried out, and _la belle_ grand'mère -returned to the _établissement_ at Arles. The Château St. Juste was -shut up for the present, but once every year it was to be opened and -filled with servants, and little Margot was to spend a month there -with _la belle_ grand'mère. For although she had given up the _dot_, -she could not by any manner of means dispose of the Château St. Juste, -which was her direct property, coming to her through her own father and -grandfather. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -IT IS JOYFUL TO BEHOLD THEE, MY PUSHKEEN. - - -On their way back to Desmondstown, Margot told Uncle Fergus that she -meant to tell The Desmond everything. - -"He will be shocked," returned Fergus Desmond. - -"No," replied Margot, "the truth told as I shall tell it can never -shock anyone. I will not allow him to think me what I am not. Uncle -Fergus, I thought you were too great to permit it." - -"I have not your strength of character, my child," said The Desmond of -the future. - -As little Margot had come back to Desmondstown now to live, as it was -to be her home in the future, with the exception of the one month which -she would spend with _la belle_ grand'mère, and as _mon_ grandpère was -dead, her return was quiet and without that sense of rejoicing which -stimulated it on her last return. There were no bonfires; there were -no excited, screaming peasants; but Phinias Maloney was there with his -little old cart, and the baby had grown so big that his mother thought -that she might bring him out just for the bit colleen to kiss him. -They drove quietly up to the rickety old house. - -The girls were standing in the hall, all three of them dressed as young -and as little like their age as ever. They all came forward to greet -her, but Auntie Norah cried out: - -"Whyever aren't ye in black, pushkeen?" - -"Why should I be in black?" replied Margot. - -"Because, for sure, isn't your French grandfather killed entirely?" - -"My French grandfather is in heaven, and very--very happy," said -Margot. "He is with God, the dear God who loves us all, and I am -not going to wear black for him, for if he could speak to me now he -wouldn't like it. I loved him most dearly; I shall always love his -memory, but now I want The Desmond and Madam." - -"Then whip into the room," said Bridget. "Why, to say the least of it, -you know your way about, pushkeen." - -"Yes," said Margot. She could not help giving a happy little laugh; she -could not help feeling a great load rolling off her heart. This was -her real home, her beloved home, her home of all homes. There were no -people like the Irish; there was no one in the world like The Desmond. - -She was wearing a little dress of thick, white serge, coat and skirt -to match, and a piece of white fox fur round her neck; her little cap -was also of white and was pushed back off her dark hair. Her cheeks -were blooming with roses. The Desmond had felt a momentary fear at the -thought of meeting his little granddaughter, but when he saw her with -her rosy cheeks and brilliant dark eyes and white apparel, he gave a -sigh of rapture. - -"Eh, eh, but it is joyful to behold ye, my pushkeen," he cried, and -then they were clasped in each other's arms. - -Madam went out, as was her custom, to prepare supper for the little -pushkeen; and this was Margot's opportunity to tell her proud old -grandfather what had occurred. - -She told him all from beginning to end; her great dark eyes were fixed -on his face; his eyes, nearly as dark, regarded her gravely. She did -not leave out a single point. She explained the entire secret, the -miserable little secret which had turned her into a shopgirl, all for -such a wretched thing as a _dot_. - -Certainly The Desmond was very grave at first--the colour mounted to -his cheeks and he clenched one of his great strong hands; but when -Margot went on to describe _mon_ grandpère's death, and then the -arrangement which had been finally decided on after the funeral, by -which Margot gave up her _dot_, returning it absolutely to _la belle_ -grand'mère and only keeping the old Château for herself--which she -could not give away, for she inherited it from her father and her -grandfather--then the old man changed his attitude. - -He burst into a loud guffaw. He rose to his immense height and folded -the pushkeen in his arms, and cried: - -"Hip, hip, hurrah! Hip, hip, hurrah! Old Ireland forever! The Desmonds -forever! Their pluck, their spirit to the world's end!" - -Madam, hearing a loud noise, came hastily in, and The Desmond told her -to calm herself and to look upon the pushkeen as a gem of the purest -water. - -"She has been telling me things that set me up," was his remark; "they -set me up fine, but they are to go no further. Quit any curious ways, -my woman; get my pushkeen her supper. Old Ireland forever! Hip, hip, -hurrah! Hip, hip, hurrah!" - -So little Margot sat on her grandfather's knee and ate the excellent -food provided for her by dear, sweet, dainty little Madam, and then, -being really very tired, she dropped asleep, with her head leaning on -The Desmond's breast, and her dark hair pressed against his white beard. - -"Eh, but she's the wonder," said The Desmond; "and I won't have her -woke, that I won't, if she lies here all night long. She's mine forever -and ever now. Thank the Lord God Almighty and His blessed Son, Jesus -Christ, and the Holy Spirit and the angels and the archangels and all -the hosts of heaven, for their mercies! I've got her and she's mine! -My pushkeen, my mavourneen, my blessed brave little lamb. I tell you, -Mary, she's a heroine. She's better than the best--what more can an old -man say?" - -Margot did awake in time to go up to her own snug little bedroom, to -slip into her own cosy bed, and to sleep the sound sleep of the weary. -But before he went to bed himself that night, The Desmond had a talk -with Fergus. - -"We've got her back, Fergus boy," he said. "She's ours now forever." - -"Yes, that's true enough, forever." - -"She has let out something to me," said The Desmond, "which I can't -repeat and won't for the life of me." - -"Don't then, father," said Fergus. - -"But she's a heroine," said The Desmond. - -"I always reckoned she was born that way," said Fergus. - -"I'm not going to tell you her bit of a secret, my man." - -"I say, father, I'm not wanting to hear it." - -"But you and me, Fergus, we must provide for her. We must settle a bit -of a dower on her." - -"I'm thinking that way myself," said Fergus. - -"We'll talk it over to-morrow," said The Desmond. - -"We will, father," said Fergus. "We'll do something fine for the -pushkeen; she's worth it." - -"Worth it!" cried The Desmond. "There never was her like before in the -world. Good-night, Fergus. You are my heir, remember, and you'll be -The Desmond after me. But listen here and now--old men die off quick -sometimes, and if anything happens to me she's your charge." - -"Of course, father; can you doubt it?" - -"That's all right. I'm going to bed," said The Desmond. He slowly left -the room. There was a great rejoicing in his heart; he saw real, true -goodness when it was brought before him. The little pushkeen should not -suffer for her confidence in him. He had loved her before; now his love -filled his heart to the very brim. - -Fergus sat for some time by the turf fire in his father's sitting-room -and laughed quietly and softly to himself at the way the little -pushkeen had managed The Desmond, who imagined _he_ was the only -one of all the family of Desmonds who knew the true story of the -_établissement_ at Arles. - -"I never saw the old fellow so took up with anything," thought Fergus -to himself. "The girls and Bruce and Malachi must never know, and -of course I'll _pretend_ never to know. It's all right--better than -right--brave little pushkeen." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE GLORIOUS SOFTNESS OF IRELAND. - - -Little Margot soon settled down into the life she loved best. Her -object was to please her dear granddad. She was fond of her uncles and -her old-young aunts and of dear, stately little Madam, but there was no -one in all the world like The Desmond himself. - -In her sweet presence he became a sort of child again. He went out, -holding her little brown hand, and although it was still too early in -the year to gather many flowers, such as grew in profusion in the south -of France, they did find wonderful mosses, and the first, sweet, daring -crocuses, and snowdrops and even primroses. - -[Illustration: They did find wonderful mosses and snow drops and even -primroses.--_Page 349._] - -Margot used to pick them and bring them into granddad's room and -arrange them with her exquisite taste for his comfort and pleasure. -Hitherto he had called flowers more or less rubbish, but now this -human flower had taught him to love all the flowers and green things -of the fields. The mosses, fructifying in their full perfection, -delighted the old man as much as the child. He polished up an ancient -microscope, and they examined these treasures of nature together side -by side. They did not want to talk about anything else while the -beautiful mosses were in their bloom. The Desmond even went to the -expense of getting high glass globes to cover the mosses, which caused -them to grow up tall and strong, and the two--the old and the young -child--felt the perfection of joy as they watched them. - -"Oh, granddad, you are _so_ funny," said little Margot. - -Granddad replied by "Hip, hip, hurrah! _Erin go bragh_;[1] the pushkeen -forever." - -Her old-young aunts were much entertained by Margot's devotion to the -old man. They themselves considered it childish. They began to consider -The Desmond in his dotage, whereas, in reality, he had never been so -alive and so amusing. A little child was leading him, and surely there -could be no safer guide to the Kingdom of Heaven. - -But happy days, even the happiest, come to an end. The season of the -fructification of the moss was over, and Margot now was fully engaged -in filling granddad's room with cowslips and bluebells, and with -beautiful, large primroses in quantities. - -One morning she felt unusually wakeful and unusually happy. She had -received quite a cheerful letter from _la belle_ grand'mère the night -before. The _établissement_ was flourishing, and Madame could never -forget her little Margot. The child was tired of staying in bed. The -time was now the middle of March, but in this soft air of the county of -Kerry harsh winds were little known, and as to rain, what did a drop of -rain matter?--nobody thought of rain in the county of Kerry. "A fine, -soft morning," they said one to the other. - -"A beautiful, soft morning entirely," they exclaimed, when the rain -poured in sheets and torrents. - -Margot watched it from her window and felt a sudden frantic desire to -go out into this glorious softness. It would not do for granddad, dear -grand-dad, but he should have his primroses and cowslips all the same. - -She put on a little old shabby frock and, stepping softly, let herself -out into the streaming, pouring rain. She had a tiny mackintosh, -which she slipped over her shabby frock. She wanted the rain and the -beautiful softness to wet her delicate, jet-black hair, and cause it to -curl up tighter than ever. She wore old goloshes a little too big for -her, on her feet. - -She knew a certain spot, beyond the grounds of the old estate, where -primroses and cowslips were growing. She had seen them the day before -with her clear black eyes, but the place was too far off for granddad -to walk to. She made for it now, however, her little basket on her arm. -After a time, she found herself under the dripping trees. - -How glorious was the wet softness of Ireland! Was there ever such a -place as Erin? Surely, surely, never, never! And then she stooped down -and began carefully to pick her primroses and cowslips, laying them -dripping wet as they were, with delicate care into her little basket. - -In the midst of her task she was arrested by the sound of voices. Who -in the world could be out and near this spot of all spots, early in the -morning? She gave a little sigh and stood upright, leaning against a -fir tree. Then she saw a sight which caused her small heart to beat. - -Her young-old Aunt Norah was walking by, leaning confidentially on the -arm of Mr. Flannigan. They were evidently too much absorbed with each -other to take the least notice of the child. Margot earnestly hoped -they would not stop--she had no desire to act as an eavesdropper, and -yet she could not get away without being seen. - -"I'm a bit tired, me honey," said old-young Aunt Norah. "Let me lean -on your shoulder, avick. There, that's better. Shall we sit a while? -I'm not one for minding the damp, being brought up in it, so to speak." - -"Eh, but listen, mavourneen," said the almost husky voice of Flannigan, -"ye might catch the bitter cowld, me pretty pet, and then where in the -wide world would your Samuel be?" - -"Why, you'd be where you always were," replied young-old Aunt Norah. - -"Ah, but no! I'd be in the cowld grave," said Samuel Flannigan. "Do ye -think I could live another minute without ye, Norah, me bit thing?" - -This was too much for little Margot. She would _not_ be an -eavesdropper. She must explain. She came out from under the shelter of -the fir tree, and flinging the cowslips and the primroses into the lap -of old-young Aunt Norah, she exclaimed: - -"I'm here and I know. It's lovely to listen, but I mustn't listen. I'll -leave you to yourselves. I didn't think you two would take up silly at -your age, but I forgot you were young-old, and that sort does anything." - -The two stared at her with their mouths open, and manifest -consternation in their faces. - -"Is it tellin', ye are going to be?" said young-old Aunt Norah. - -"To be sure not--I've nothing to tell. If I'd stayed a bit longer I -might have heard more. Phinias did say to me once that you and himself -there, were familiar-like; but I didn't know what it meant, and I -don't know what it means now, only that he calls you 'me honey,' and -you stick to him in the dripping, pouring rain. Well, if you like it I -don't care; I'm going home." - -"No; you are not," said old-young Aunt Norah. "You've heard too much, -and you shall hear the rest. We are going to be married, me and this -gentleman." - -"Married?" cried little Margot. "Whatever is that?" - -"My child, it is the gift of heaven," said Samuel Flannigan. - -Margot raised her black eyes to the dripping skies. - -"It seems to come down in a good pour," she said. "Still, I don't -understand." - -"You know about Madam and your granddad," cried young-old Aunt Norah. - -"To be sure; am I wanting in sense entirely?" - -"Well, they're married, the same as we'll be very soon, very soon." - -"Oh, deary me!" cried little Margot. "That does sound lovely. Only you -know, Mr. Samuel Flannigan, you haven't got the beautiful face of my -granddad, so perhaps your little children won't be _quite_ as lovely. -I wonder how many you'll have. My old nurse at Uncle Jacko's said that -when I cracked my fingers, every crack meant a wee babe. Shall I crack -them now for you two?" - -"Oh, child, you are too awful," cried Aunt Norah, who found herself -blushing in the most uncomfortable way. - -But Margot took no notice of the blush, nor did she observe that the -Rev. Samuel Flannigan had moved a trifle out of hearing. Margot gravely -cracked her fingers. After a time she looked solemnly at young-old Aunt -Norah and said: - -"You'll have ten. They'll come out of the hearts of cabbages, and I'll -order them for you one at a time, if you like; I'll go straight home -now and begin to make the baby clothes." - -"Margot, you are the most awful pushkeen in the wide world," said Aunt -Norah. "You have made himself feel so ashamed that he can't look me in -the face." - -"All because of the dear little babies," said Margot. "I am more than -surprised." - -"Listen," exclaimed Norah, "no young girl ever talks on those subjects -before marriage." - -"Don't she? But why? I thought it was _so_ interesting." - -"It isn't, pushkeen; it isn't done." - -"Have you told granddad yet that you are going to marry Mr. Flannigan?" -inquired Margot. - -"No; we don't want him to know yet. It would spoil the fun; and dear -Samuel is so sensitive." - -"I suppose so; I never thought it before, but if he's frightened of a -wee thing like a babe, he must be. But, young-old Aunt Norah, you ought -to tell granddad." - -"I will, in good time, child; only it must be in my own way and in my -own time. Samuel is the most blessed and holy man in the whole world." - -"Well, I don't think he's quite that; for if he were he wouldn't -play games like _puss-in-the-corner_ and _round the mulberry tree_ -and _blind-man's buff_; and then, Aunt Norah, you _can't_ call him -handsome. His nose, it cocks right up, and there's very little of it; -and his mouth is _so_ wide; and he has teeny eyes; and his head is -getting bald. Do you want to marry a man with a bald head, Aunt Norah? -I'll tell you how I found it out. I saw you and him and Aunt Bridget -talking and laughing and giggling the other day, and I thought it -wasn't to say--well! what old-youngs did." - -"You little prude," said Aunt Norah in an angry voice. - -"Well, but it _wasn't_, old-young Aunt Norah." - -"You are not to call me 'old-young'; I won't have it." - -"Well, old, then." - -"I'm not old." - -"Whatever am I to call you, for you are not young?" - -"Bless the child; she'll break me to bits," said Aunt Norah. "Pushkeen, -you don't know what you are talkin' of." - -"I do; I know quite well. You sent me to your bedroom the other day -and I saw a very long plait of hair that wasn't yours lying on the -dressing table. If you were young the hair would sprout like bulbs out -of your head, and on the day that I watched you and Aunt Bride and Mr. -Flannigan playing in the garden, I thought I'd find out about him, so -I got Joe, the garden boy, to fetch me a ladder, and he did so, and I -climbed up and sat in the bough of a tree, and Samuel's hair was all -bald on the top, so you are neither of you young, and you oughtn't to -pretend; it is wrong." - -"Oh, you are a dreadful, dreadful pushkeen," said Aunt Norah. "But I'll -forgive you all your wild ways and tell you my little beautiful secrets -if you promise not to say a word of this--this meeting, to my father, -nor my sisters, nor my brothers." Margot was rather beguiled by the -thought of being Aunt Norah's confidante. - -"I'll keep your secret as safe--as safe can be for _one week_," she -said. "You can tell himself there'll be _only_ ten, and that I my -very self will pick them out of the choicest cabbages. Now, good-bye. -I'd love to see you hugging each other, and I'm sorry they won't be -pretty, but, you see, you aren't, and he isn't, and the cabbages are -_very particular_ whom they send the wee babies to. Well, I must be -off." Little Margot rushed back to the house. She felt rather cold and -chill. Aunt Norah's news by no means pleased her. She had never liked -Mr. Flannigan, and she disliked him more than ever now. Still, she had -promised to keep Aunt Norah's secret for a week. It was an awful burden -on her little mind; still, she must keep her word. - -The week went by, and after the first day, Margot began to enjoy -herself. It was so very interesting to watch Mr. Flannigan blush. She -had only to stare first at him, then at Aunt Norah, and behold, his -entire face was crimson. She made little experiments with his blushes, -and they succeeded to such an extent that the poor man was in agony. -At last Aunt Norah had to take her away and speak to her. - -"Do you know, pushkeen," she said, "that you are making my Samuel very -miserable?" - -"I?" said Margot. "I don't know what you mean." - -"Yes, but you are. You keep looking at him." - -"I can't help it; a cat may look at a king, Auntie Norah." - -"Yes; but a little girl ought not to make a very reverend and pious and -good clergyman uncomfortable." - -"I never before thought he was reverend and pious," said Margot. - -"Well, he is; he's a clergyman of the Church of Ireland." - -"Do they all play _puss-in-the-corner_?" inquired Margot. - -"Oh, you silly, silly child. Now I'm going to show you something. It's -a great secret. You must keep it tight in your heart." - -"I will, auntie. The week will be up to-morrow, remember, and I think I -can bear an extra secret until then." - -Aunt Norah first of all walked to the door, which she locked. She then -unlocked a certain drawer in her chest of drawers and produced a little -box with a jeweller's name on it. She opened it and showed Margot a -small, very poor-looking ring. It was without precious stones and had a -twisted knot in the middle. - -"It's pretty," said Margot, dubiously. She knew good rings, having seen -so many at Arles. - -"Pretty! you little cat; it's lovely." - -"What does the twist mean?" asked Margot. - -"That is a true lover's knot. This is my engagement ring. Dear Samuel -went to Cork yesterday and bought it for me. Oh, Margot, when we are -really married we'll live in a wee house of our own; and you shall come -and see us, if you'll only promise not to talk about babies." - -"Indeed, truly I won't," said Margot. "I thought you'd like to have -them, but you evidently don't. Will your house be very nice, Auntie -Norah?" - -"It will be elegant, child. Not a tumble-down place like this." - -"There never _was_ a place so perfect as Desmondstown," said Margot. - -"Our little house won't be so big, but it will be sweet and fresh and -pure," said Auntie Norah. "I can't bear gawds of any sort." - -"Can't you, auntie? I should have thought you loved them." - -"You don't know me a bit, Margot. I always felt you didn't." - -Margot smiled faintly and was silent. After a very long pause she said -slowly: - -"Thank you very much for showing me the ring; and I hope you'll keep -your word about telling granddad to-morrow." - -"We're going to tell Uncle Fergus," said Norah. "He'll break the news -to your grandfather." - -"Oh, won't you tell him yourself--yourselves, I mean? It sounds -so--so----" - -"So what?" exclaimed Norah. - -"Sort of cowardly," said Margot. - -"You have never seen my father in a passion, pushkeen. He'll be angry -at a Desmond marrying a Flannigan, and he'll let his anger out and -storm and rave, and poor Sam won't be able to bear it. It is best that -Fergus should get the brunt of it." - -"Are you quite--quite sure that is what you mean to do?" asked Margot -after a long pause. - -"Well, perhaps----" - -"As you are both so finicky I'd best do it for you. I'll talk to Uncle -Fergus and get him to tell granddad. I'm going to have a private talk -with Uncle Fergus to-night. Shall I tell him about you and the holy, -saintly Mr. Samuel to-night, Aunt Norah?" - -"Well, to be sure, child, you have a heart and a half." - -"No, I've one heart, but it's big. It can hold you two and your little -ring and your _'mendous_ big secret." - -"I think you are a nice little girl," said Norah. "Well, tell him, but -whatever you do, get him not to speak to my father till the morning." - -Margot promised to obey. Just before dinner that evening she asked -Uncle Fergus to walk up and down the big picture-gallery with her. All -the best pictures had been sold long ago, but still there was one very -precious Romney left, also a couple of Gainsboroughs, not at that great -master's best, and several by unknown artists. - -Little Margot was very fond of creeping up to the picture-gallery and -looking at the Romney. It represented a little dark-eyed girl exactly -like herself. She did not know the likeness, but everyone else remarked -it, and the people of the neighbourhood invariably said: - -"Oh, do--do look at the little Romney," when Margot and her grandfather -passed by. - -Now she stood exactly under the picture, her dark eyes raised to the -dark eyes of the little girl, who was holding an enormous bunch of -cowslips in her hands. With all her likeness to Margot she had not the -fire of Margot in her small face. Still, Margot loved her because she -was her very own--her own ancestress, who had been born a Desmond at -Desmondstown, and had died before she was old enough to marry. "So she -is always a Desmond," said Margot, speaking, as was her custom, aloud. -"And that in itself is beautiful. I'll run to her first when I get -to Heaven--even before I see dear grandpère. I do love her. Always a -Desmond--a Desmond up in Heaven. She must be wonderfully happy. Oh, is -that you, Uncle Fergus?" - -Uncle Fergus joined the child. He put his arm round her slim little -waist, and they both stood together and looked up at the picture. - -"Do you love the Romney picture, pushkeen?" he asked. - -"Oh, Uncle Fergus, I just adore it. She must be so happy, never to have -changed her beautiful name." - -"She was your great-great-great-aunt," said Uncle Fergus. "Her name was -Kathleen Desmond, and your own mother was called after her. She died -a year after that picture was taken. It is the most valuable thing we -possess. If sold it would fetch thousands of pounds, but I am going to -ask my father to give it to you for your very own, Margot." - -"Oh, oh, are you, Uncle Fergus? But I couldn't sell her, you know. If -I felt she was my own, I'd keep her forever and ever and ever. She is -part of me now, I love her so much." - -"I don't want you to sell her, little one," said Fergus; "nor would -The Desmond hear of it. She would not be yours as long as The Desmond -lives. Then, if he consents, we will settle her on you, as well as the -dower." - -"Not a _dot_; I hope not a _dot_," said little Margot. - -"No, I said a _dower_." - -"Well, that's all right. How I shall pet you and love you, -Great-great-great-Aunt Kathleen Desmond; even up in heaven, where you -are now, I'll see your face in the sky, on starlight nights, looking -down at me and smiling at me." - -"Do you know, Margot, why I want to give you that picture?" - -"No, Uncle Fergus. You have a funny thought at the back of your head, -but I don't know what it is." - -"Because you are like her, very like her." - -"Am I--am I truly? Why she's quite bee-uti-ful." - -"Well, never mind about that, child. You asked me to meet you here and -I have come. Have you anything to say?" - -"They are so frightened, poor things," said Margot, suddenly restored -to the present. "They haven't got my courage nor her courage nor your -courage, so I thought that you and I had best help them." - -"Who on earth are you talking about, pushkeen?" - -"He blushes so dreadfully," continued Margot. "It's quite awfully -painful. I keep looking away from him now to ease his mind a bit. I -suppose he thinks Auntie Norah very beautiful and she thinks him very -holy." - -"Who on earth--what _do_ you mean, pushkeen?" - -"Well, Uncle Fergus, they've settled it up and you can't stop it, -'cause Aunt Norah says they are both of age. I'm certain sure they are, -for I climbed up a ladder to see the bald spot on his head. It's Mr. -Flannigan and Aunt Norah, and they are going to be married at once, -almost imme_jit_, and _you_ have got to tell The Desmond. She says she -is not old-young, but that she's young. I know quite well that she's -only old-young, but I don't talk of it. She's very happy, though, for -she loves him. It seems a pity that God made him ugly, for she's not -beautiful, and I don't quite like her taste. She's going to have a -teeny house, and he has bought her a little engaged-up ring. It's a -very poor sort of ring, really, truly, but oh, she _is_ proud of it. -You will be kind to her, won't you, Uncle Fergus! Poor Aunt Norah, she -thinks it so more than lovely, going to be married. I was frightened -at first, thinking of their wee babies; but they don't seem to want to -have babies." - -Uncle Fergus burst into a sudden laugh, sat down on a tattered old -seat, and took Margot into his arms. - -"You little blessed thing," he said. "Don't whisper to anyone, Margot -asthore; keep it tight within ye. Your Aunt Norah is fifty." - -"What's fifty?" asked the pushkeen. - -"Why, half a century, of course. She's the eldest of us all, except -your Aunt Priscilla. Well, I'll do my best with The Desmond, but he'll -be rare and angry, I can tell you. His pride of birth is his greatest -pride of all, and that chap Flannigan, why he is--" - -"He's a clergyman of the Church of Ireland," said Margot solemnly. - -"My father will think nothing of that. He knows only too well that he's -the grandson of a labourer on the Desmond estate, and though he's old, -he's ten years younger than your aunt; but keep it dark, pushkeen. I -know you never let out secrets. I'll do my best for them for your sake, -my pretty sweet. But what a pair of fools they are, to be sure." - -"Oh, Uncle Fergus, don't talk like that. If we can make them joyful, -let's try. Let's try very hard." - -"Blessings on ye, pushkeen, I'll do my best for your sake. Now I think -we must tidy up for supper." - -FOOTNOTE: - -[1] Means the Irish of _Ireland forever_. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -A POUND A DAY--A PICTURE AND A WEDDING. - - -Notwithstanding all her confident dreams and her bold, resolute -spirit, little Margot did not find the next day at Desmondstown either -peaceful or happy. Fergus, true to his word, told his father of Norah's -engagement. The old man stormed and raved. He sent for Norah, who -refused to go to him. His rage grew yet hotter. He said that if she did -not appear at once he would have her locked up; that no child of his -should disgrace herself by marrying a Flannigan. - -Samuel Flannigan was forbidden the house. He was told that his case -was hopeless. Aunt Norah, in terror, did appear and was assured by her -father that she was nothing but a blessed bit of a fool and mighty old -at that, and that she must immediately promise him that she would never -speak to that low-down fellow, Samuel Flannigan, again. - -Norah cried, sobbed, even screamed, and was finally locked up in her -room by The Desmond himself. Then little Margot came in and tried to -smooth matters and comfort the distracted old man. He looked at her -bonny face; at her glowing, rosy cheeks; at her wonderful, soft, black -eyes; at her thick, curling, black hair; and held out his arms to her. -She crept into his embrace and sat there very quiet, without speaking. -Margot was singularly wise for her age, and she knew that the time to -speak had not come yet. - -Presently, however, as the old man was feeling the comfort of her -presence, he was startled by one great tear splashing on his hand. - -"Why, my pushkeen, alanna," he said. "I thought for sure that the -Desmonds never cried--those that are true Desmonds, I mean." - -"It was only _one_ tear, granddad," said little Margot. "I don't like -anybody to be unhappy." - -"Eh, now, to be sure, nor do I," said The Desmond. - -"But there's Aunt Norah, granddad. She is very mis'rable; she _is_ fond -of Samuel." - -"Don't ye dare," said the old man. His whole manner changed; he pushed -her off his knee. She looked at him without reproach, but with intense -sadness, and then slowly, very slowly left the room. - -He was so wretched after she had gone that he felt inclined to call her -back, and to tell her that all the foolish Norah Desmonds in the wide -world and all the ridiculous, low-born Samuel Flannigans might marry, -if only she would stay with him and comfort him. - -Madam came in presently and found him alone. The one tear that Margot -had shed had dried on his horny old hand, but he kept on looking at -the hand. He did not attempt to wipe that tear--that pearl of all -price--away. It had dried itself. He thought his hand a sort of sacred -thing because it held one tear from the little pushkeen. - -"What ails your hand, Fergus?" asked Mary, his wife. - -"Oh, nothing," he replied. "Why shouldn't I have a hand in all -conscience, and why shouldn't I look at it? Where on earth is the -pushkeen?" - -"Why, didn't you know?" said Madam. - -"No; what should I know? For goodness' sake, woman, speak out!" - -"Well, I'm thinking you won't see her for a bit," said Madam; "but -she'll come back by-and-bye--very soon, most like." - -As a matter of fact Margot had taken up the cause of Aunt Norah and Mr. -Flannigan; and for her to take up any cause meant far more than the -people who benefited by her counsel and advice had any idea of. Now, -having left her grandfather, she tried to find Uncle Fergus; but he -was nowhere in the house. Then she went up to Aunt Norah's room. She -knocked at the door. She heard sobbing and moaning within. - -There were sounds like "Ohone! ohone! Oh, dear me, Oh, dear me! Oh, -it's me heart that's torn to tatters!" - -Margot could not get Aunt Norah to listen to her; so she left her. She -went to her own little room, and opening a certain drawer took out her -purse. It had been well stored by _la belle_ grand'mère. There were a -great many gold pieces in it. Margot did not stop to think how many. -The sun was shining to-day. She put on a neat little dark-blue serge -frock and her pretty crimson cap, and went straight to the house where -Samuel Flannigan lived. It was a very small house and very shabby. It -was close to the church; and the front door stood open. Margot entered. -She went down the narrow hall and into the tiny front sitting-room, -where the blinds were drawn down and where Samuel Flannigan was seated, -his face buried in his hands, his great ungainly shoulders shaken with -sobs. - -Margot went up and touched him somewhat delicately. - -"I don't want you, Miss Margot," he said. "It's your sort that does the -mischief; but for you I wouldn't have lost my little girl." - -"Mr. Flannigan, I've done no mischief, except that I made you blush. -I'm sorry I did that--I am truly. I want to tell you that you need -never blush any more, and you'll get your little _wee_ young girlie if -only you have patience and behave like a man. _I've_ taken the matter -up, Mr. Flannigan, and I mean to succeed. Good-bye, now, and cheer up. -Things will come right soon, but not quite immediately. Trust me, Mr. -Flannigan, and forgive me for making you blush such an awful ugly red." - -Flannigan looked vacantly at the pretty child. Somehow a gleam of hope -did stir in his heart. That child was very uncommon and remarkable. -He had never, never seen her like before. He wondered whether he -could manage to run away with Norah. But ten minutes after Margot had -departed, his little flicker of courage had left him, and he sat down a -weary, desolate man, who felt very old and good-for-nothing. - -He was really fond of Norah, and he did not see why he should be abused -because his grandfather was a labourer on the Desmondstown estates. - -Meanwhile Margot, having quite made up her mind, went quickly in -the direction of Phinias Maloney's bit of a houseen. She kissed the -children who were basking in the sun and picking flowers to throw them -away again. - -She snatched up the baby and covered his small face with her kisses. -Then she went into the little kitchen to Annie Maloney. - -"Why, whatever," exclaimed Annie; "my blessed missie, what do you want?" - -"Where's Phinias?" asked little Margot. - -"He's over beyont; ye can see him if ye look. He's planting cabbages -for the summer." - -"Annie," said Margot, "are you great enough to be good in a very great -cause?" - -"Well, now, whatever does the bit thing mean?" said Annie. - -"I want Phinias. Will you give him to me?" - -"Well, now, I'd do most things for ye, alanna, but _himself_!--I -couldn't part with himself. 'Tain't likely now, is it, missie, and he -the father of the childer?" - -"I only want him for about two or three days at the most," said Margot; -"and I'll pay him well," she added. "A pound for every day he's away -from you." - -"To be sure now, that's powerful big pay," exclaimed Mrs. Maloney. "We -could buy another piggeen, and put by for the rint, and tidy up the -place a bit." - -"So you can," said Margot. "We'd best make it three days." - -"To be sure, my blessed mavourneen--to be sartin sure." - -"Well, I'm going to speak to him," said Margot. "You're a very noble -woman, Annie. He'll be back with you in three days and he'll have three -pounds to put into your hand. Now then, don't tell anybody in the world -where we have gone." - -"Is it a sacret?" exclaimed Annie. "Lor' love us, I dote on a sacret." - -"I'll go and see him at once," said Margot. "I trust you, Annie, more -than anyone else in all the world; I do indeed." - -"Lor' love ye, my pretty," said Annie. - -Margot scampered across the field. Presently she reached "himself" as -he was planting the young spring cabbages. - -"Phinias," said Margot, "you are just a darling." - -"Be I?" said Phinias. "You do use pretty words, missie, asthore." - -"It's what I feel, Phinias. Now I've spoken to Annie and Annie is -satisfied, and I'll pay all your expenses and my expenses, too. I can't -run away alone, because I'm too small; but Phinias, I'm going to run -away." - -"Lor' bless us and save us," cried Phinias, "and you the idol of The -Desmond's dear old heart." - -"Sometimes we must be parted from the people we love," said Margot. -"Get the cart ready as fast as you can, Phinias, and put on your best -things and come with me. You must take me straight, right away, this -blessed minit, to dear Uncle Jacko. As soon as ever I get there _you_ -can go home again. And when you get home you'll carry a letter with you -which I'll have written, and you'll put it _yourself_ into the hands of -The Desmond. That's all; and you'll get three pounds besides your food -and your travelling. Come along this blessed minute, Phinias; there -isn't a moment to spare." - -Phinias stared out of his truly Irish eyes; his wide mouth grinned a -trifle. He looked a little sheepish, a little glad, vastly surprised; -but in the end Margot got her way. She was seated beside Phinias in the -queer little cart. - -They went by a road they did not usually go, and arrived at a railway -station which they did not generally get to, and there they took train -for Rosslare. - -On the following day, quite late in the evening, Margot's little brown -face peeped round the shabby door of the study, where Uncle Jacko was -preparing his Sunday sermon. - -Margot gave a cry of joy and flung herself into his arms. - -"Why, then, by the powers! isn't this too joyful altogether?" exclaimed -Uncle Jacko. - -"Yes," said Margot, "Phinias brought me. You'll keep him for to-night, -and he'll go back to-morrow. Uncle Jacko, is Aunt Priscilla about?" - -"No, thank the Lord. She's gone missioning to Manchester." - -"I don't know what that is," said little Margot. - -"It's good work, very good work. She's a good woman," said Uncle Jacko. - -"Then we'll be alone?" - -"We will so, my bonny bird." - -"Then everything is going to come beautifully right," said Margot. -"I think God is almost _too_ good, Uncle Jacko. Oh, I do love Him so -tremendously." - -That evening the little girl told Uncle Jacko the entire story of Aunt -Norah and Mr. Flannigan, of her grandfather's unaccountable rage and of -her own determination that Aunt Norah and Mr. Flannigan should be happy. - -"He--granddad--can't live without _me_, Uncle Jacko, so you see I ran -away. I'm going to send him back a letter to-morrow morning by Phinias -Maloney. The very moment he says 'yes' about Aunty you'll take me back -to him, won't you, Uncle Jacko?" - -"I will, my sweet child, although the parting with you will be a sort -of tearing open of an old wound." - -"Oh, Uncle Jacko, he won't give way for a bit. We'll have some days to -play--to be just a little boy and just a little girl together." - -If Uncle Jacko was delighted to see Margot, old Hannah's raptures were -also beyond words. - -"Thank the Lord the missus is away missioning," she said, and then she -hugged and kissed, and kissed and hugged Margot, and got her old tiny -room warm and snug for her, and treated those two _children_, as she -spoke of her master and Miss Margot, to the very best that the house -could afford. - -Before she went to bed that night, however, Margot wrote a letter to -granddad. It ran as follows: - - - DARLINGEST AND BEST:-- - - I couldn't live even with _you_ at Desmondstown unless we were - happy together. I couldn't bear to see your dear face all puckered - up with sorrow, and with anger, which the beautiful God hates; so I - have come away for a bit to Uncle Jacko; but when you feel that you - can give your bit girleen to poor Sammy, why then--then I'll _fly_ - back to you, for you'll be the noblest old man in the world--nobler - than your pride; and I'll never leave you again, never, never. This - is to say that I'm here and I'm safe, and my heart is full to the - brim with love for you; so send for me _very_ quick indeed, my own - granddad. - - P.S. Don't let your wee girlie get too old from sobbing. You and I, - we both know that it isn't the way of the Desmonds. Be as quick as - you can in settling the matter up. - - Forever and forever, - Your PUSHKEEN. - - -This letter was read by a broken-down old man who, for three days, had -given up Margot as lost; whose heart was so completely broken with -regard to her, that he did not give either Norah or Flannigan a thought. - -When the old man read Margot's letter he gave vent to a sort of yell of -delight. - -"Why, bless the bit thing," he cried. "Madam, Madam, Fergus, Fergus, -she's safe with that good fellow, Mansfield. Wire to her to come home. -Fergus, go off at once and send a wire. Norah may go her own way. She's -nothing to me compared to my Margot--my pushkeen--my blessing." - -So the wire was sent, and as quickly as possible Uncle Jacko and little -Margot returned to Desmondstown. Margot flew into her grandfather's -arms. - -"Is it right?" she said. "May they marry?" - -"They may marry every single week of the year from this time forward, -for all I care," said The Desmond. - -"Have you told them so?" asked Margot. - -"No, and don't want to." - -"Granddad, you _must_." - -"All right, my pushkeen." - -"Madam, darlin,' bring Norah down to granddad this minute." - -"I'll fetch her," said Fergus. - -He went up to his sister's room, and in a few minutes she appeared, -looking very cowed and shaken. - -"It's that blessed little Margot's doings," said Fergus. "No one else -would have brought him round. Loving my father as much as she does, she -was determined to give him up unless he allowed you to be happy." - -"I don't understand," said Norah. - -"Well, you needn't, colleen. Come with me now and don't keep the old -man waiting." - -Norah went. Margot was in her usual place on her grandfather's knee. -She would not allow him to rise. He just put out his great hand in the -direction of Norah. - -"Ye're looking a bit white, colleen," he said; "and weak, too, with the -weakness of the aged. I give in; you can take him. Why, there he is," -for Malachi had rushed round to the house of Flannigan and brought -him straight back--a very red-eyed, feeble man, to meet his red-eyed, -feeble bride. - -"There, I've settled it," said The Desmond. "You can both go out and -spoon. I'm busy with my granddaughter. I had never have given in but -for her. She's as cute as she's sweet. Lor' bless her, she's the cutest -thing on earth," and then he hugged Margot close to his heart. - -The three Sundays were obliged to be gone through in order that the -banns might be properly read, and Margot brought her wonderful taste to -bear on the subject of the wardrobe of the bride. Knowing quite well -that her grandfather would give in, she had wired to _belle_ grand'mère -from England, telling her what things she would require for the wedding. - -Accordingly a huge parcel arrived, containing muslins, silks, laces, -hats, gloves, stockings, shoes. Was not Margot busy during that -fortnight? Was not Bride busy helping? Did not Eileen show the taste -she--Margot--had in a far greater degree? The bride was the most -indifferent of all, for did not Samuel come at all hours to her window -and sing out to her: "Norah me honey, Norah, asthore;" and was not the -entire place alive with the excitement of a wedding in the Desmond -family? - -It was Margot herself, however, who superintended the making of the -bride's dress. She hired a sewing-machine; and bought the softest -cream satin, suitable for a bride of eighteen, and saw that it was -properly cut and prepared for old-young Auntie Norah. - -At last the wedding day arrived, and a great feast was to be held in -the huge dining-room when the ceremony was at an end. Nothing could -take Norah's fifty years from her, but Margot arranged her hair in a -marvellous style, and put a bunch of white roses into her dress, and -made her look as no one else could have made her look. - -"To be sure, she passes the years wonderful," said one old crone to -another. - -But it was at the wedding breakfast that little Margot shone in all her -glory. She was in very simple, pure white, and her cheeks were flushed -a little deeper than usual, and her eyes shone with a softer and more -beautiful light. By The Desmond's desire there was a chair placed for -Margot next to himself. He sat at the head of the board, but in such a -position that he could not see the old bride and bridegroom. - -"Margot," he whispered, "pushkeen asthore, they'll be making speeches -to drown ye like, and they'll be expecting me to take my turn. Will you -do it for me, little Margot?" - -"_I_ do it?" said Margot. "What sort is a speech, granddad?" - -"What comes into your head and what ye lets out. That's a speech." - -"Oh, that's easy enough," said Margot. "May I say that I'm speaking for -you?" - -"Ye may, pushkeen asthore." - -So when the right moment arrived, a very, very tall old man, of immense -breadth of stature as well, stood up, holding the hand of a lovely -little dark girl. - -"My granddad is tired," began Margot, "and he can't speak what he -thinks, so he has put his thoughts into me. There's a bride and there's -a bridegroom sitting beyont. They were married in church this morning. -They are both of them young, for their hearts are young, and they are -mighty fond of each other entirely; and my granddad, he wishes me to -say----" - -"Whist, pushkeen," came from the lips of the old man. But pushkeen -could not be stopped at that moment. She was looking straight into -the happy eyes of old-young Aunt Norah, and into the blissful face of -old-young Uncle Samuel. - -"I'm wishing you," she said, "me and my grandfather, long, long life -and prosperity. I'm wishing that your happiness may continue and you -may always, as long as you live, play _puss-in-the-corner_ and _blind -man's buff_. I'm thinking it's a very good way to begin to get married, -by playing those games; and I recommend them to the rest of my uncles -and aunts. I'll look out for husbands for them if I can, and for wives -for the boys if I can, but for me myself I don't mean to marry, being -altogether too much occupied, having one so precious as my granddad to -live with forever and forever. Amen." - -"Isn't she exactly like the Romney?" said a quaint old lady who was one -of the guests invited for the occasion. - -"Yes, to be sure, only handsomer," said her companion. - -"She's the sweetest, most uncommon child I ever saw," said the first -lady; "and doesn't the old man love her? He's bound up in her, bless -her little heart." - -A few minutes later Norah went upstairs to change her bridal robes and -put on the going-away dress which Margot had selected for her. She -never felt so stylish in her life, nor so tearful, nor so happy. - -"Why, Margot," she said, turning round and looking at the child. "It -was you that did it all--all. There was a time when I hated you. But -for you, I can plainly see now that I'd never have got my Sam. Oh, -Margot, I _am_ happy. And tell me, what does the Rev. John Mansfield -think of the holy man?" - -"He loves him; he can't do more," said Margot. - -"And you love him, don't you, Margot?" - -"For your sake I'll begin to twist myself in that direction," said -Margot. "Now hurry, auntie, hurry, or you'll miss your train." - -A beautiful carriage had been provided. This had been secured out of -the proceeds of a small cheque which _la belle_ grand'mère had sent to -Margot for the wedding; and the bride and bridegroom, when they went -away, were not obliged to step into Phinias Maloney's trap. - -"For all God's mercies, let's be thankful for that," said Aunt Norah. - -But Margot, as she watched them go and helped to throw slippers and -rice after them, felt that she herself would prefer the little trap. - -"The house is well quit of them," whispered The Desmond; but Margot -would not allow him to say these words aloud. - -"It's her wedding day; it has come a bit late, but let her be happy in -it, granddad." - -"Right you are, my dove, my blossom;" and then they sat down--the old, -old man, and the young child--to examine some flowers by the aid of a -microscope. - -All was indeed well in the heart of little Margot. She and her -grandfather were in the midst of their game, and as a matter of fact, -had forgotten Norah and her husband when Fergus came in. - -"This is a lucky day in the Desmond family," he said, "and to complete -it utterly, I think we ought to present little Margot with the deed of -gift which will secure to her the Romney picture whenever you pass from -this world to a better, dear sir." - -"Oh, I won't take it if it means _that_," said Margot. "I want granddad -to live forever and ever." - -"But I can't do that, my child; no one can. You are quite right, -Fergus, my son. The Romney is mine for my life, and I think my life -will last for some time yet with such a little dear to put life and joy -into it; but I should like to sign the document now to make all sure -and safe. She _is_ the little Romney, only just twice as beautiful. But -we can have the deed signed at once, my son." - -So the deed, which Margot did not in the least understand, was brought -in by a very old man, who was a solicitor from the city of Cork; and a -great many names were put in certain places, and the old Desmond signed -his name, and Fergus Desmond his name, and the little Margot was -requested to write certain words in her clear, childish writing: - -"I accept this picture as a most sacred gift whenever my grandfather, -The Desmond, goes up to God." - -But the signing of this paper, coming on top of everything else, was -almost too much for the sensitive child. She had to rush from the room -to keep back her tears, for a Desmond, a proper Desmond, _must_ not cry. - -"I tell you what, father," said Fergus, "I have been thinking that as -I, _too_, shall never marry--for I don't care for the colleens round -this part--and so, in this case, I shall eventually leave Desmondstown -to the little pushkeen, she might take back the name of Desmond, and -if she marries, as marry she will some day, her husband must take the -name with the property. Somehow, since she came to us everything has -prospered in the most wonderful way, and I'm paying off the mortgages, -and Desmondstown will be clear of all debt long before you die, father. -What do you think of the little dear taking back the old name?" - -"I say goroosh! I say hurrah! I say hip, hip, hurrah! I say -Erin-go-bragh! I say the Desmonds forever; and beyond and above all -other things, I say God bless the little Desmond, the future owner of -the Romney. God bless and keep her forever!" - -"Granddad, _what_ a noise you are making," said Margot, coming in at -that moment, having got over her tears. - -"It was about you, my pushkeen. It's all settled and you are to be a -Desmond forever and forever and forever!" - -Little Margot did not understand, but she was happy beyond words; and -what _could_ it matter about understanding when you are happy--too -happy even to speak? - - -THE END. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Girl of High Adventure, by L. T. 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T. Meade. - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - - p { margin-top: .75em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .75em; - } - - p.bold {text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} - p.bold2 {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 150%;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; - } - h1 span, h2 span { display: block; text-align: center; } - #id1 { font-size: smaller } - - - hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; - } - - hr.tb { - width: 15%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 42.5%; - margin-right: 42.5%; - clear: both; - } - - body{margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - } - - table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 5px; border-collapse: collapse; border: none; text-align: right;} - - .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - text-indent: 0px; - } /* page numbers */ - - .center {text-align: center;} - .smaller {font-size: smaller;} - .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - .space-above {margin-top: 3em;} - .right {text-align: right;} - .left {text-align: left;} - .s3 {display: inline; margin-left: 3em;} - - /* Poetry */ - .poem { - margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; - text-align: left; - } - - .poem br {display: none;} - - .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Girl of High Adventure, by L. T. Meade - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: A Girl of High Adventure - -Author: L. T. Meade - -Illustrator: Charles L. Wrenn - -Release Date: May 2, 2020 [EBook #61995] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GIRL OF HIGH ADVENTURE *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="center"><a name="cover.jpg" id="cover.jpg"></a><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><a name="frontis.jpg" id="frontis.jpg"></a><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="Frontispiece" /></div> - -<p class="bold">With these words, he left the somewhat desolate little -<br />girl.—<a href="#Page_30"><i>Page 30.</i></a></p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="title page" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<h1>A GIRL OF<br /> HIGH ADVENTURE</h1> - -<p class="bold space-above">BY</p> - -<p class="bold2">MRS. L. T. MEADE</p> - -<p class="bold">AUTHOR OF "OCEAN'S GIRLHOOD," "A WILD IRISH GIRL," "THE GIRLS<br /> -OF MERTON COLLEGE," "FOR DEAR DAD," "KITTY O'DONOVAN,"<br /> -"PEGGY FROM KERRY," "THE CHESTERTON GIRL GRAD-<br />UATES," -"THE GIRLS OF KING'S ROYAL," "THE<br />LADY OF JERRY BOY'S DREAMS," "A<br /> -PLUCKY GIRL," "THE QUEEN<br />OF JOY," ETC., ETC.</p> - -<p class="bold space-above"><i>WITH FOUR HALF-TONE DRAWINGS<br /> -BY CHARLES L. WRENN</i></p> - -<p class="bold space-above">NEW YORK<br />HURST & COMPANY<br />PUBLISHERS</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="bold">Copyright, 1914,<br />BY<br />HURST & COMPANY</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p> - -<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<table summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">With these words, he left the somewhat desolate little girl</td> - <td><a href="#frontis.jpg"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">She nestled more snugly than ever into her grandfather's arms</td> - <td><a href="#i100.jpg">100</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Never was there anything quite so delightful as that ride</td> - <td><a href="#i207.jpg">207</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">They did find wonderful mosses and * * * snow drops and even primroses</td> - <td><a href="#i349.jpg">349</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My noble, lovely, little Peggy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let this my First Epistle beg ye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At dawn of morn, and close of even,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lift your heart and hands to Heaven.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In double duty say your prayer;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">"Our Father" first, then "<i>Notre Père</i>."<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And, dearest child, along the day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In everything you do and say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Obey and please my lord and lady,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So God shall love and angels aid ye.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If to these precepts you attend,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No second letter need I send,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so I rest your constant friend.<br /></span> -<span class="i12"><span class="smcap">Matthew Prior</span>.<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<table summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="left"><span class="smaller">CHAPTER</span></td> - <td><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>I. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Child Who Won Hearts</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>II. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Visit to Ireland</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>III. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">An Irish Chieftain at Home</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Old Young People</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>V. </td> - <td class="left">"<span class="smcap">I'll Explain to Yourself</span>"</td> - <td><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">M. Le Comte</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Little Comtesse</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Brown Hats and Fans</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The English Girls at the School of La Princesse</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>X. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Thou Art Faithful and So Are My Bees</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Thunder Storm</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Gem of the Ocean</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Pines</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Starlight and Tilly</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">I Cannot Talk Parley-vous</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Fear of the Shillelagh</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">If it Must Be, it Must</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Green Hat</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Le Cabinet de Beauté</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Conspiracy</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span>XXI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Palace of Truth</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_330">330</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XXII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">It is Joyful to Behold Thee, My Pushkeen</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_342">342</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XXIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Glorious Softness of Ireland</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_349">349</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XXIV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Pound a Day—A Picture and a Wedding</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_368">368</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">A GIRL OF HIGH ADVENTURE</p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER I.</span> <span class="smaller">THE CHILD WHO WON HEARTS.</span></h2> - -<p>Marguerite St. Juste was Irish on her mother's side, who was born of -the Desmonds of Desmondstown in the County Kerry. Marguerite's father -was a French Comte, whose grandfather had been one of the victims of -the guillotine.</p> - -<p>Little Marguerite lived with an uncle, who was really only that -relation by marriage; his name was the Reverend John Mansfield. He had -a large living in a large town about fifty miles from London, and he -adopted Marguerite shortly after the death of her parents. This tragedy -happened when she was very young, almost a baby. She did not in the -least remember her father, whose dancing black eyes and merry ways had -endeared him to all who knew him. Nor did she recall a single fact with -regard to her mother—one of those famous Desmonds, who had joined the -rebels in the great insurrection of '97, and whose people still lived -and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>prospered and were gay and merry of the merry on their somewhat -tattered and worn-out country estate.</p> - -<p>Marguerite adored "Uncle Jack," as she called her supposed uncle. She -had a knack of turning this grave and esteemed gentleman, so to speak, -round her little finger. It was the Rev. John and his wife Priscilla -who taught little Marguerite all she knew. She adored her uncle; she -did not like his wife. A sterner or stricter woman than Priscilla -Mansfield it would be hard to find. Her husband, it is true, considered -her admirable, for she discovered whenever his parishioners tried to -impose upon him, and kept the women of his parish well up to the mark.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Mansfield was really a good woman, but her goodness was of a -kind which must surely try such a nature as little Marguerite's, or -Margot's, as her uncle called her. Mrs. Mansfield did her duty, it -is true, but her good husband's parishioners dreaded her although -they obeyed her. Her husband praised her, but wondered in his heart -of hearts why more people did not love her. In especial he could not -understand why little Margot objected to her. As a matter of fact, if -it were not for Uncle Jack, this small girl would have found her life -intolerably dull. She had managed, nobody quite knew how, to get into -the very centre of the heart of the grave, patient-looking <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>clergyman -and, because of this fact which she knew and he knew, she got on quite -well, otherwise—but little Margot did not dare to think of otherwise. -Was she not herself a mixture of both Irish and French, and could there -be any two nations more sure to produce a child like Margot—a child -full of life and fearlessness, of fun and daring?</p> - -<p>She longed inexpressibly for companionship, but young people were not -permitted to visit at the Rectory. She dreamed long dreams of her -father's people in the Château St. Juste, an old place near Arles, in -South France, and of her mother's people at Desmondstown—an old estate -gone almost to rack and ruin, for where was the money to keep it up?</p> - -<p>Mr. Mansfield was well aware of the state to which both families -had been reduced, but when his little darling, as he called Margot, -liked to talk about her father's and mother's people, he invariably -encouraged her; that is, provided her aunt was not present. Mrs. -Mansfield snapped up the child whenever her own people were talked of. -She assured her that both families had gone to the dogs and did not -even remember her existence.</p> - -<p>"You ought to be very thankful to have an uncle and aunt like myself -and your Uncle John," said the good woman. "If my John was not what -he is, you would be nothing more nor less than a miserable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> little -beggar. See that you obey us both and do your best to return the great -kindnesses that we show you."</p> - -<p>Little Margot St. Juste found it quite easy to respond to her uncle's -kindness, but her aunt's was a totally different matter. Mrs. -Mansfield's kindness consisted of "Don't, don't, <i>don't</i>," repeated -with increasing energy from morning to night.</p> - -<p>"Don't attempt to stand on the hearth-rug, you bad child." "Don't look -so silly; get your seam and begin to sew." "Don't stare at me out of -those eyes of yours; you make me quite sick when you do, and above all -things don't make a fool of your poor, overworked uncle. He has no -right to teach you Latin and Greek. Such languages are not meant for -women and I shall tell him so, if you don't do it yourself. Do you hear -me?"</p> - -<p>But Margot was always coming across what she called "last straws" and -this happened to be one. She was not afraid of her aunt, she only hated -her. Now she went straight up to her and stared fully into her eyes.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter with you, you nasty, rude little beggar?"</p> - -<p>"I'm <i>not</i> a beggar, auntie," replied Margot. "I'm going to ask Uncle -Jack about that. He always tells me the truth." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<p>Now Mrs. Mansfield, severe as she was, had a certain wholesome fear of -her good husband.</p> - -<p>"You dare not repeat what I say," was her remark. "I—I'll whip you if -you do."</p> - -<p>"Then I'll have that, also, to tell Uncle Jack," replied Margot. -"Auntie, you had best leave me alone. I intend to learn Latin and -Greek, and I won't say a word of what you said just now to Uncle Jack -if you'll let me alone. See, auntie, you had best for your own sake."</p> - -<p>Margot gave the angry woman a bright glance of triumph and walked -out of the room with the air of a small conqueror. At this time she -was eleven years of age but looked younger and not the least like -the ordinary English girl. Her little round face was slightly, very -slightly, brown in tint, with a brilliant rose colour on each small -cheek. Her eyes were large, soft, and black as night. Her eyebrows -were well arched and also black. She had a charming little mouth and -quantities of thick curly black hair.</p> - -<p>This was the small child who, to a great extent, ruled the Rectory. It -is true that Mrs. Mansfield stormed at her a great deal, but Margot -was accustomed to her harsh words and by degrees took little notice of -them. She was naturally very brave; she did not know what fear meant. -She tried to do her best for auntie, but as auntie would never be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>satisfied she comforted herself with Uncle Jack. It was easy to get on -with him for Uncle Jack and Margot loved each other with a great love.</p> - -<p>The study at the Rectory was a very shabby and small room, but to -Margot it seemed like Heaven. She sat there day after day for several -hours, busy over her Latin and Greek. She did not care in the least for -these languages, but they ensured her being for some little time with -Uncle Jack, and then, when the lessons were over, the treat followed. -It was that treat which supported Margot through the many trials of her -small life.</p> - -<p>She had arranged this treat for herself some little time ago and Mrs. -Mansfield knew nothing about it. Always when the last Greek verb was -finished, and the lesson books put away on a shelf which Margot kept -in perfect order for the purpose, the little girl used to skip away to -the kitchen and there coax Hannah, the cook, to give her two cups of -tea and two slices of cake. With these she returned to the study and -then deliberately locked the door. The tea and the cakes were placed -close to Uncle Jack. Margot swept his books and manuscripts carefully -to one side and then, having carefully fed him first with tea and cake, -proceeded to munch her own portion.</p> - -<p>She was always rather quick in eating her slice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> of very plain cake. -Then she put all signs of the feast away behind a newspaper, knowing -that the cook would fetch them by-and-bye. After this she climbed on -her uncle's knee, clasped her little arms round his neck and began her -invariable request,</p> - -<p>"Now, Jacko, darling——"</p> - -<p>"You oughtn't to call me Jacko, little heart's love."</p> - -<p>"I like it," repeated the child. "I wouldn't say it for all the world -before her, but it makes us sort of equal, don't you understand? You're -Jacko and I'm Margot. We are playmates, you know. You are not a great -learned clergyman any longer. You are just the playmate of little -Margot. Come along, Jacko, don't let's waste time. I know she's out. -She's visiting all the poor people; it's her day for collecting their -pennies. We'll have a whole lovely hour if you don't waste time. It's -the Irish turn to-day; tell me all you can about the Desmonds. My -mother was a Desmond, wasn't she?"</p> - -<p>"She was, sure," said the Rector, who happened to be an Irishman -himself, but was careful to keep that fact a secret except when he and -Margot talked together.</p> - -<p>"And the Desmonds were mighty chiefs—great warriors?" continued -Margot. "They feared nobody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> nor nothing. All the women were beautiful -and all the men were brave. Now go on, Jacko, go on."</p> - -<p>"The castle had a portcullis," said Uncle Jack, and then he burst into -imaginary stories of the Desmonds, whom he hardly knew at all.</p> - -<p>"You forget what you are talking about to-day," said Margot, taking -up the thread. "As you enter by the front door you find yourself in a -great hall, covered all over with armour—perfect suits of armour."</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course I forget," said Uncle Jack, "and the hall goes up as -high as the roof, and there is the ingle nook, where the fire is never -let out day nor night."</p> - -<p>"Never—never let out," muttered Margot. "Tell me about the men now, -Uncle Jack."</p> - -<p>"Oh, bless your heart, puss, they are fine fellows, those Desmonds—big -and broad and with sparkling eyes."</p> - -<p>"And the chief is called 'The Desmond'?" interrupted little Margot.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that's true enough. It's a very fine title to be sure."</p> - -<p>"And what sort are the ladies?" asked Margot.</p> - -<p>"Bless you, child, something like yourself, only perhaps not quite -so dark, but to hear 'em laugh and to hear 'em sing would make the -water stand in your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> eyes, that it would—just for the joy of it; you -understand, Margot."</p> - -<p>"Yes, uncle, and my mother was one?"</p> - -<p>"She was that, and the best of 'em all."</p> - -<p>"Now, describe every inch of her, Uncle Jack," said Margot. -"Begin—begin, go on—go on."</p> - -<p>Now it so happened that the Rev. John Mansfield was not famous for -descriptions, but he did draw a certain picture of Kathleen Desmond -which was not in the least like that young lady, but which abundantly -satisfied her child. Her cheeks grew redder than ever as she listened -and she panted slightly as she snuggled against her beloved uncle.</p> - -<p>"My mother must have been quite perfect," said little Margot. "Are -there any of them left now, Uncle Jack?"</p> - -<p>"Any of them left, child? Why, there is Norah and Bridget and Eileen, -and there are three fine boys as well, and there's 'himself' as strong -as ever, and madam, his wife, who has the finest lace in the county."</p> - -<p>"I <i>would</i> like to know them," said Margot. "Why can't I get to know -them, Uncle Jack?"</p> - -<p>"Because they are just too poor to have ye with them, my little -<i>asthore</i>—that's the truth of the matter. You have got to stay with -Uncle Jack and make the best of it." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But if I went for one week—couldn't I stay with them for one week, -uncle? I do so dreadfully want to know Norah and Bridget and Eileen."</p> - -<p>"'Tis aunts they are to ye, my pretty."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and what are the names of the boys, and what are they to me?"</p> - -<p>"Uncles to be sure, <i>acushla machree</i>. There's Fergus, called after The -Desmond, and there's Bruce and there's Malachi."</p> - -<p>"Malachi—that does sound a funny name," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"It belonged to the finest of the old Irish kings," said Uncle Jack, -and he began to hum the well-known tune "<i>When Malachi Wore His Collar -of Gold</i>."</p> - -<p>"There now, that's enough," said Margot. "You are wonderful to-day, -Jacko, you are quite wonderful. But can't we go to see them while -auntie is away?"</p> - -<p>"There's no money. <i>Acushla machree</i>, there isn't a penny."</p> - -<p>"Look here, Jacko, and don't talk about there being no money. These are -mine—they belong to me."</p> - -<p>The child thrust her hand into her little pocket.</p> - -<p>"Auntie thinks she keeps them for me, but I took them away my lone -self ages and ages back and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> has never missed them. They belonged -to my father, who was the young Comte St. Juste. See, this seal and -this watch and chain and this necklet he bought for mother, and -these bracelets. We can sell 'em and get plenty of money to go to -Desmondstown."</p> - -<p>"Why to be sure, so we could," said Uncle Jack, "but you make me feel -like a wicked old man, little puss."</p> - -<p>"No, no, you are a perfect darling. Promise faithful and true that -you'll take me to Desmondstown when auntie goes away to visit her sick -friend. She's going in a week or fortnight and she'll be away for a -whole fortnight at least. I was naughty, last night, Jacko, and I -eavesdropped when she was telling cook. She's going Friday week and -we're going to Desmondstown on Friday week."</p> - -<p>"Listen to me, Margot. I can't lie to you, child; it is a thing that -couldn't be. I have to stay here to attend to my parochial work and I -cannot leave even if I want to, but I'll tell you what I'll do, little -puss. I'll sell just as many of these things as are required—not -nearly all, for all won't be wanted, and I'll take you myself and I'll -put you on board the steamer and look out for a kind Irish lady, who'll -put you into the right train for Desmondstown. Now, for goodness' sake, -let me sweep these things into a drawer. I hear herself coming in. -We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> mustn't let a word on to her, child, and you must be back with me -faithful and true before she returns."</p> - -<p>"That I will, Jacko, you may be sure of that."</p> - -<p>The treasures were locked into one of Uncle Jack's drawers. The door of -the study was unlocked and little Margot ran out into the garden. She -kept singing in her high, clear voice, "<i>When Malachi Wore His Collar -of Gold</i>." She felt beside herself with happiness.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER II.</span> <span class="smaller">A VISIT TO IRELAND.</span></h2> - -<p>It so happened that after his last interview with little Margot St. -Juste, the Rev. John Mansfield became subject to a strange uneasiness -of conscience. Never before had he attempted to do anything underhand. -He was a God-fearing and excellent man and was respected and loved by -all his parishioners. Mrs. Mansfield was respected and not loved, but -it was impossible to see much of the Rev. John without feeling his -sympathy, and acknowledging that burning love for all human souls which -filled his breast.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless this most excellent man was going to act in a deceitful -way. He was going to do something, and that something was to be -concealed from the wife of his bosom. He had long felt the injustice -of keeping little Margot apart from her relations, and when the child -pleaded and pleaded as she alone knew how, and even provided means that -would secure the necessary cash, he could resist her no longer. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> - -<p>Nevertheless the good man was miserable. His sermons seemed to have -lost their power. He walked with a decided stoop and a heavy expression -on his face, and Mrs. Mansfield wondered if her husband, that most -excellent John, was suddenly developing old age.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile little Margot was in the highest of high spirits. She was -more attentive than usual to her aunt.</p> - -<p>"It is quite easy to be good when you are happy," thought little -Margot, and she sang with greater spirit than ever "<i>When Malachi Wore -His Collar of Gold</i>." But when she ventured to allude to the subject to -Jacko, he desired her to hush. He spoke with a certain severity which -she had never before noticed on his face. Nevertheless when he saw a -look of distress creep into her brilliant, rosy cheeks, he took her on -his knee, assured her that all was quite—quite right, that his promise -was his promise—only he would rather not speak of it.</p> - -<p>The Friday so full of events drew on apace. The house was to receive -a thorough spring cleaning. Mrs. Mansfield would be absent exactly a -fortnight. During that time Margot was to be a very good child and look -after her dear, kind uncle, without whose aid she would be nothing but -a beggar maid, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> Margot promised to do her very best for Uncle Jack, -her black eyes twinkling as she spoke.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Mansfield left home early in the morning and, the moment she had -gone, Margot danced into her uncle's study.</p> - -<p>"Jacko, Jacko," she cried, "she's gone—she's gone! Good riddance, say -I. Now we are going to begin our fun."</p> - -<p>"You must not talk of your aunt like that," said Uncle John. "Are your -things packed, <i>acushla machree</i>?"</p> - -<p>"To be sure," said Margot. "Dear, kind Cook Hannah helped me. -She brought an old leather trunk down to my room and it is chock -full—chock full, Jacko. I'm taking presents to my three aunts, Norah, -Bridget and Eileen, and to my uncles, Fergus and Bruce and Malachi. -I'd like well, Jacko, that you gave me money to buy a new pipe for The -Desmond and something for madam as well. I don't know what great Irish -ladies like. Do you think a big box of candy would suit her when she -can't sleep o' nights?"</p> - -<p>"I would not buy any more presents if I were you, my pet," said Uncle -Jack. "Now, see here, I have managed everything. It is very wicked of -me, but I'm doing it." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It is nice to be wicked sometimes," said Margot, with untold fun -flashing in her beautiful eyes.</p> - -<p>"No, no, little one, it is wrong to be wicked, and I am deceiving the -best of women; I feel it terribly on my conscience."</p> - -<p>"Who is the best of women, Jacko, darling?" inquired little Margot.</p> - -<p>"There now, then, I'll tell you if you'll listen to me. It's that aunt -of yours, Priscilla Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Margot. "Jacko, your conscience is too tender. It wants -some kisses. Three kisses on each cheek—three kisses on your forehead -and three on your lips. Now you are better, are you not?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'm better," replied Uncle Jack, "but remember, Margot, -<i>asthore</i>, that you have got to obey me to the very letter."</p> - -<p>"Course," replied Margot. "I couldn't do anything else."</p> - -<p>"Well then, you listen. You stay at Desmondstown in the county of Kerry -for one week and no longer, and during that time you're on no account -to speak against your aunt to the Desmonds. This is Friday. You will -get to Desmondstown to-morrow. To-morrow week I'll be waiting on the -pier to get you off the steamer."</p> - -<p>"Yes, uncle, I'll do everything." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, child, I have ordered a cab to fetch us to the railway station -at 11 o'clock. What's more, I have written to The Desmond to tell him -to look out for you. I haven't sold many of your things, my child, but -I've got the price of your return ticket all the way to Desmondstown -and five shillings over, in case you should want some trifles on the -journey. Only remember that you must not waste your precious money. -'Waste not, want not'—that's an excellent proverb, Margot."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Jacko, you are getting so like Aunt Priscilla. Don't—don't say -any more."</p> - -<p>"I won't, my colleen, but see! have you got a pocket in your little -skirt?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, to be sure, and I sewed up the hole yesterday when Auntie -Priscilla wasn't looking."</p> - -<p>"Let me feel that it is all nice and tight," said the Rector. He put -in his big hand, pronounced the pocket safe enough, and then inserted -a tiny purse which he had bought for Margot and into which he put five -shillings.</p> - -<p>"Here's your purse, Margot child, and here's your money, and when I buy -your ticket you must be sure to keep the return half safe in your purse -or you'll never come back to your own poor Jacko again."</p> - -<p>"Oh, won't I!" said Margot. "I have feet and I can use them—trot, -trot, trot, trot; look Jacko!" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You can't trot on the sea, child."</p> - -<p>"I'll keep everything safe as safe," repeated Margot. "I'll do every -single thing that you want me to do and you may look out for me -to-morrow week on the pier. I shall know all about Norah and Bridget -and Eileen and Fergus and Bruce and Malachi by then. Oh, shan't I feel -rich and aren't you just the darlingest and best of uncles?"</p> - -<p>"Run upstairs now, child, and put on your hat. The cab will be round in -a moment."</p> - -<p>Margot disappeared.</p> - -<p>"Bless her little heart," murmured the clergyman, "I'll just miss her -terrible, but it stands to reason that she should get to know her own -grandparents and her own uncles and aunts. I suppose I'm doing wrong -but I can't help myself. May God forgive a weak old man. I haven't the -righteous courage of my Priscilla."</p> - -<p>Little Margot was a delightful companion in the cab. She was quite -as fascinating in the train, which bore them at last to that part of -the coast where a steamer sped daily from Fishguard to Rosslare. The -old-fashioned trunk was hoisted on the shoulders of a sturdy porter. -From him it disappeared by means of a crane into some unknown and -apparently awful depths.</p> - -<p>The Rev. John looked round him anxiously. Was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> there anyone on board -who would take care of the little girl and put her into the right train -for Kerry? At last he came across a man who undoubtedly hailed from the -Emerald Isle. He had bushy whiskers and small, twinkling grey eyes; -a wide-cut mouth, and no nose to speak of. Uncle John looked at him, -considered him and finally made up his mind to speak to him.</p> - -<p>He had hoped to come across a respectable lady of his little darling's -own rank in life, but did not see one. Meanwhile the stranger's eyes -twinkled more than ever and at last he came up to Uncle John and of his -own accord held out a huge paw.</p> - -<p>"How bain't I mistook or bain't I not, but be ye never Jacky Mansfield, -son of Farmer Mansfield, bless his sowl? Why he was took years and -years ago. Stroked he was, and the stroke was so mighty it took the -breath out of him, and he didn't live the night out. He's all right, -though—he died a good Christian man. Are ye comin' over to Ireland -thinkin' to see him, John Mansfield? for ye won't, he's not there. -'It's a poor, disthressful country' we 'as in these times, John -Mansfield. You are best out of it. I couldn't help noticin' ye, seein' -as we stole so many wild birds' eggs together."</p> - -<p>"Let it be," said the Reverend John. "I'm glad to see ye, Phinias -Maloney. I'm not goin' to Ireland<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> at all, but I want someone very -badly to look after this little maid here. She's my niece in a kind of -fashion and I've had the bringing of her up since her parents died. She -wants to go to Desmondstown. You must remember her mother, Phinias?"</p> - -<p>"Remember her?" said the Irishman, "remember the 'light of the -morning'? She was all that and more. But they are in a poor way now -at Desmondstown, although they manage to keep together. The gentlemen -are all for the huntin' and so for that matter are the young ladies, -too. Young, I call them, and will, while I live. Why ever should age be -added to their burdens? And so this little missie is own grandchild to -The Desmond?"</p> - -<p>"She is that," replied the Reverend John, "and I'm sending her over -to see her own people for one week and no more. I'd take it as a high -favour, Phinias, if you would put her into the right train for Kerry -and see after her a little bit when she lands, for she is only a wee -colleen—half French, half Irish. You might help me that much for the -sake of old times, Phinias Maloney."</p> - -<p>"Have no fear, man," was Phinias' reply. "I keep me father's old farm -and have a wife and three fine childer. They are frettin' like anythin' -at me leaving of 'em, but I had to go to get praties that'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> yield a -good harvest. What did ye say the little miss's name was?"</p> - -<p>"Marguerite St. Juste."</p> - -<p>"Ah, well, I can't quite get my tongue round that, but I'll call her -Magsie—her'll understand Magsie—it's a good sounding, sensible title -wid no foreign blood about it."</p> - -<p>Accordingly Uncle John placed his pretty little treasure in very -capable hands. Phinias Maloney was a very rough-looking man, but he was -the soul of honesty and good nature, and had the highest respect in the -world for the Desmonds of Desmondstown. He went and had a chat with the -captain, who, as a great favour, allowed him to sit on deck with little -Margot. But Margot's black eyes were brimful of tears. She was by no -means taken by the look of Phinias, and her frantic desire to see her -grandparents and aunts and uncles well nigh vanished when she parted -with her beloved Jacko.</p> - -<p>"Now then, missie, we'll have a fine time," said Phinias. "The wather -smooth as a pond and you going to the most elegant place in the whole -of the county of Kerry. I can't make out how 'himself' is your uncle, -but there! I don't bother me head wid what I don't understand. He's a -good fellow is John Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"He's the best man in all the world," said <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>Margot, crushing back her -tears with an effort. "He's a very, very holy man, but my aunt, she's a -wicked woman. I mustn't tell the Desmonds about her, Phinias, but she -is a very wicked woman, and but for me, that holy saint wouldn't live -long. It's me he really loves. He pretends to love her, but that is -just because of his holiness. Are you a holy man, Phinias Maloney?"</p> - -<p>"Ach, not me!" said Phinias. "I has enough to do without bein' howly as -well. My poor knees wouldn't stand it"</p> - -<p>"What do you mean by that, Phinias, aren't you a bit silly?" said -Margot. She had begun to get over a little of her grief and to enjoy -a talk with her peculiar-looking companion. "What do you mean? Speak, -man," she repeated.</p> - -<p>"I manes this, missie <i>asthore</i>. Howly men are most found on their bent -knees wid their heads thrown back cryin' out to God A'mighty to have -mercy on miserable sinners."</p> - -<p>"Uncle Jacko never does anything quite so foolish," replied Margot. -"You don't understand him, and we won't talk of him any more."</p> - -<p>"I like that," replied Phinias, "when him and me, we took eggs out of -every wild bird's nest in the county."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, it was you that tempted him," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> Margot. "It was a -bitter, cruel thing to do, and you ought to be 'shamed of yourself, -Phinias."</p> - -<p>"Lawk a mercy, listen to the bit thing," cried Phinias, with a hearty -laugh. "Him and me was ekal in those days, though now he's above me—no -doubt on that."</p> - -<p>"He's a holy man, and you wouldn't have the right to tie his shoes," -replied Margot.</p> - -<p>Phinias gazed with some complacency and amusement at the quaint little -figure. Presently he turned the conversation to long and exciting talks -about Desmondstown and the young ladies and the young gentlemen and old -madam and The Desmond himself.</p> - -<p>"Ye'll have to be mighty particular when ye gets there, little miss. -The Desmond won't stand any freedoms like. He's as proud as proud can -be, though he's got nothing else to be proud of but that he's <i>The</i> -Desmond, so ye must mind your p's and q's. Don't ye play any pranks on -him, missie, or it'll turn out bad for ye."</p> - -<p>"I won't, Phinias, I won't indeed. I'm going to be quite a good girl on -account of that holy man, my uncle. But please tell me what Malachi is -like."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Phinias, clapping his horny hands and giving vent to a -roaring laugh. "There's a boy for ye, if ye like. There ain't a boy in -any part of Ireland, from east to west, from north to south,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> can beat -Malachi; why he could sit a horse that would throw anyone else off its -back in a twinklin'. The horse may buck-jump, may do any mortal thing -he likes to do, but once Malachi's acrost him, 'tis no use and he knows -it, for there Malachi'll stay."</p> - -<p>"And tell me about the others, please," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Oh, the ladies, ye mane. They're young, mortal young—they are babes -of innocence. They don't know the world and they don't want to. Malachi -breaks in horses for 'em, and they ride and ride and ride, and that's -about all they can do. Fergus, the wan who is to take the title after -his father, is more severe like, but he's a handsome lad for all that, -and so is Bruce for that matter."</p> - -<p>"And do they all live at Desmondstown?" inquired Margot.</p> - -<p>"To be sure, and where else would they live!"</p> - -<p>"But they can't be so young if my mother was their sister," said Margot.</p> - -<p>Phinias bent towards the little girl.</p> - -<p>"Whist, missie, whist, <i>mavourneen</i>" he said. "We never talks of -birthdays in the ould country. Age! We don't know what age is. If we -ever knew it we forgets it. We are all young—young as new-born chicks. -Now then, missie, you'd best go and lie down, for it may be gettin' a -bit rough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> by-the-bye, and we're due at Rosslare early in the morning."</p> - -<p>Margot sat very still for a few minutes.</p> - -<p>"Phinias," she said, then, "I have a little money, a very little money -by me. Can I have a bite and a sup to eat and drink?"</p> - -<p>"To be sure ye can; for sartin ye can. What 'ud ye fancy now? A drop of -whisky I'd say, or a bottle of Guinness' stout."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, please; may I have a cup of tea and a little bread and butter?"</p> - -<p>"I'll get it for ye, honey bird, and for the Lord's sake don't mention -the word <i>age</i> in Ould Ireland. There ain't sich a thing. Mind me now -and be careful!"</p> - -<p>"I will," said Margot, "I'll be very careful."</p> - -<p>Presently the farmer returned with some very uninteresting tea and -bread and butter, which he offered to the little girl. She was hungry -and faint, also, for all this unexpected excitement had made her -terribly tired. But when she offered to pay, Phinias shook his shaggy -head.</p> - -<p>"Not me," he said, "not a bit of me. I guess ye'll want your money, for -them colleens and boys at Desmondstown. This 'ull pay for some of the -eggs that your uncle, John Mansfield, robbed from the birdies afore he -turned a howly saint." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> - -<p>So Margot ate her uninteresting meal, found the stewardess extremely -kind, got into the berth reserved for her and slept soundly until she -was awakened at 6 o'clock on the following morning by Phinias himself.</p> - -<p>"Here we be, missie; here we be. If we are quick we can get lovely -coffee at the restaurant in the station and then off we goes to Kerry. -I'll take ye as far as the gates of Desmondstown and don't ye fear -nuthin'. Be as free as ye like with Miss Norah and Miss Bridget and -Miss Eileen, and be playful as a kitten wid Master Bruce and Master -Malachi, but hold yeself in a bit with Madam Desmond and The Desmond -and Fergus, the future heir. There! I can say no more. We'll be -travelling third, forsooth, in order to make the money go, and I'll -be surrounded by ould friends—only don't ye forget there's <span class="smaller">NO -AGE</span> in Ould Ireland. Kape that fact stuck in your breast and -all 'ull go well. Ah, never mind favouring the stewardess with a -tip—shure, Mrs. Mulchi, ye wouldn't be robbin' the poor orphan."</p> - -<p>"To be sure I wouldn't, Phinias," replied Mrs. Mulchi.</p> - -<p>Margot was now intensely excited, although she did feel a certain sense -of disappointment at observing that the grass was much the same colour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -as the grass in England. That the trees also appeared much about the -same; and even the flowers, the daisies and buttercups were what she -was accustomed to. But Phinias Maloney supplied her with an excellent -breakfast of good coffee, bread and butter, new-laid eggs and honey.</p> - -<p>"Ye'll be wantin' all ye can git," he said, "and I tell ye what I -knows. Stuff it in, stuff it in, missie, and thin we'll take our places -in the train. Ah, to be sure won't thim giddy young things be glad to -lay eyes on ye?"</p> - -<p>"Do you think they will, Phinias?" answered Margot, who regarded the -uncouth Irishman now as an old friend. "Do you really and truly mean -it?"</p> - -<p>"Does I think it? Don't I <i>know</i> it? It's hugging ye they'll be, -and don't ye repulse them whatever ye does, and when the gurrls is -kittenish, ye be kittenish too. Ah, well, I can't give any more -advice for the present for I see several old friends makin' for this -compartment, drat 'em, and ye must hould up your head and look mighty -proud. The Desmonds of Desmondstown! there ain't their like in the -county."</p> - -<p>Poor little Margot endured that long and weary journey as best she -could. It was the spring of the year and the feeling of spring seemed -to have got into the breast of every individual who crowded into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> that -uncomfortable carriage. The farmers smoked and talked incessantly about -the lambing season and Margot, presently, unable to keep her eyes open, -dropped asleep with her head on the shoulder of Phinias.</p> - -<p>She felt as though she had known Phinias all her life by now. At Mallow -they changed and Phinias provided a second excellent meal, also out of -the birds' eggs which Uncle John had stolen before he became a saint. -He further told the child that if she was in any sort of a bit of a -throuble any wan would tell her where Phinias Maloney's farm was, -and he'd help her and so would "herself" help her, and so would the -childher help her from the bottom of their hearts.</p> - -<p>Then they got into the train, which took them into the famous and -lovely county of Kerry and by-and-bye, about five in the evening, they -drew up at a little wayside station. Here a very rough-looking cart was -waiting for Phinias and a small boy who was addressed as "gossoon" was -standing by the horse's head.</p> - -<p>Phinias was now most deferential in his manner to Margot. He got Nat, -the gossoon, to assist him to hoist her old leather trunk into the -cart, and then he whispered a word or two into the ears of the said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -gossoon, which induced the boy in question to give Margot many and -amazed glances.</p> - -<p>"Ye couldn't reach to the height of her forever and ever and -ever and a day," remarked Phinias to Nat, the gossoon. "Ain't -she own granddaughter to The Desmond and child to beautiful Miss -Kathleen—bless her white sowl—and wasn't her father a nobleman of -France? You kape your manners tight on your head when ye look at her, -Nat. We'll have to drive right round to Desmondstown. The young ladies -must be expectin' her by now, belike, and thim young boys must be -hankerin' for a sight of her. Now then, gee up, Dobbin, gee up!"</p> - -<p>Off they started in the springless cart, up hill and down dale. The -evening light flooded the land and Margot was too excited and too -fascinated by the beauty of the scene round her to remember either her -deadly fatigue or any little stray crumbs of nervousness which might be -lingering in her breast.</p> - -<p>At last they pulled up at a tumbled-down gate. The last time that gate -was painted must have been many long years ago. There was an avenue -winding along inside and covered with weeds. Nat lifted the leather -trunk out of the cart with reverence. Phinias took off his shabby hat, -pulled his forelock and said,</p> - -<p>"Welcome, ten thousand times, <i>céàd míle fáilte</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> to Desmondstown, -missie <i>asthore</i>, missie <i>mavourneen</i>." Then he bent his head and, -lowering his voice, said,</p> - -<p>"We must be about our business, missie, but we'll put the bit trunk -under this laurel bush and some of thim young boys 'ull fetch it for -ye, and ye walk down the avenue bould and free, wid no sort of shyness -in ye, and when ye comes to the front door, ring the bell. Most like -the bell 'ull be broke. If so it be, and like enough it will be, turn -the handle and walk in. There ain't no one 'ull interfere wid ye, but -bear in mind we are all <i>young</i> in these parts."</p> - -<p>With these words he left the somewhat desolate little girl.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER III.</span> <span class="smaller">AN IRISH CHIEFTAIN AT HOME.</span></h2> - -<p>Now The Desmond was tall, broad, and of enormous height. Although he -was by no means a young man, he walked with great erectness. His hair, -somewhat scanty now, was of a soft white. His beard was long and white, -also, but his eyes were large and black and his complexion somewhat -resembled that of little Marguerite St. Juste. It was of a soft brown -tint and, old as he was, there was still a vivid colour in his cheeks.</p> - -<p>This ancient descendant of an ancient race was, however, more feared -than loved. In short, The Desmond ruled his little kingdom with a -rod of iron. He never allowed familiarities between himself and his -retainers. He could scarcely be spoken of as affectionate, and yet he -had a strain of affection somewhere in his heart. That affection was -entirely bestowed upon his lost, most beautiful and most dearly loved -child, Kathleen. Like many Irishmen of his race, he was reserved with -regard to his secret sorrows. He could not bear Kathleen's name to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> -mentioned in his presence and never once did he allude to the orphan -child whom his pretty girl had left behind her. If he had any feeling -towards the father of the said child, it almost amounted to hatred.</p> - -<p>He could not abide, as he said once to Madam, "the Frenchies and their -ways."</p> - -<p>Henri St. Juste had, beyond doubt, hastened the end of his beautiful -Kathleen. This was his belief. He wept the slow, difficult tears of the -aged often at night as he thought about her, but he made no enquiries -whatsoever with regard to the child and once, when Madam, in her timid, -coaxing way, ventured to suggest that Kathleen's child should come to -Desmondstown, The Desmond raised a shout of mighty anger and desired -her to hold her peace or she would be sorry for herself.</p> - -<p>Now of course Desmondstown was a typical old Irish place. It was going -to rack and ruin as fast as ever it could. There was no money to keep -it in order. There was just enough money to supply food and a sort -of clothing for the inmates, to supply Malachi with horses, which he -trained, some for himself, some for his sisters, some for his brothers, -and the rest of which he sold, giving his father one-half of the -profits.</p> - -<p>Malachi's horses were almost the only available<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> assets at -Desmondstown; for The Desmond, although fierce, even ferocious at -times, was good-natured to his tenants and strictly forbade any -evictions on his estates. He gave his sons the scantiest of all -possible educations with the exception of Fergus, who was his heir. -Fergus, by scraping and toiling, he managed to send first of all to a -fairly good school and then to Trinity College, Dublin. Fergus he also -supplied with suitable clothes, but he never thought of his earning any -money. It never occurred to him that any of his sons should work. Debts -abounded all over the place and Desmondstown was in reality mortgaged -very nearly up to the hilt.</p> - -<p>The gardens had gone to ruin, the ancient avenue was more like a field -path than anything else. All the gardeners had been dismissed. Only the -stablemen and grooms and the garden boy remained outside the house, -and within there were the cook, Biddy Magee, and the housemaid, Grace -Connor, and Peter, the old butler. These were typical Irish people, -untidy, not too clean, but, as The Desmond said, all that he could -possibly afford.</p> - -<p>Bit by bit, and by slow degrees, the lovely china, the Chippendale -furniture, the coats of mail, which were supposed to decorate the old -hall, disappeared in order that there might be food and wine for The -Desmond and his tribe. There was also a quantity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> of valuable silver, -the most famous in the county, which followed the same fate. The -carpets were worn to shreds, the curtains hung in tatters from the -windows—everything was in a hopeless state of confusion. In fact, -a more dilapidated home than Desmondstown could scarcely be found -anywhere, even in that region of dilapidated homes, the county of Kerry.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, the Misses Desmond held their heads high, and their -brothers, with the exception of Fergus, were highly popular in the -neighbourhood. Fergus was grave and dark, like his father before him. -Now and then he even felt a degree of sorrow at the rapid decay of the -old place. But to work—to have it even <i>said</i> that the man who would -one day be The Desmond should work—was beyond his wildest dreams. He -led a rather melancholy life therefore, taking little or no notice -of his sisters, but often walking out with his old father, who was -becoming glad of the support of his stalwart arm.</p> - -<p>Now it was a custom at Desmondstown, as indeed it was the custom in -every house in that part of Ireland, to let letters go their own way, -bedad! Letters meant bills, and the best way to treat bills was not -to answer them. Accordingly the long and careful letter which the -Rev. John Mansfield wrote with regard to little Margot reached her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>grandfather, it is true, all in good time. But it only <i>just</i> reached -him, for after staring for a minute at the handwriting he thrust it -unopened into his pocket and forgot all about it.</p> - -<p>Little Margot, whatever she went through with Uncle Jack, lived at -least in a fairly neat home, where her much dreaded aunt, Priscilla -Mansfield, kept everything in apple-pie order. She had no fear but -that the letter had travelled on before her, and that she would find -her uncles and aunts, who were so <i>very</i> young, and her grandfather -and grandmother, who were equally old, all waiting on the tip-toe of -expectation for the little colleen.</p> - -<p>When Margot parted with Phinias, she felt just a trifle lonely, but -very soon this feeling passed and she was only conscious of the -sensation that she was at last in very earnest going home, but the -avenue was long and weedy. A good many broken branches of trees were -scattered about and, walk as fast as she might, she could not get a -peep of the old house. As a matter of fact, the old avenue was quite -two miles in length and the child was already very tired.</p> - -<p>There was a broken stump of a tree which offered a fairly comfortable -resting place. She sat down on it and burst into tears. Her tears -were bitter. This was by no means the Desmondstown of her dreams. In -the midst of her sobs, however, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> heard the low-pitched voices of -women who were certainly no longer young. She wondered if some of -the servants were about and if she might address them, but the next -instant, before she could make up her mind how to act, the low voices -ended off into peals of laughter, and two women appeared, dressed -from head to foot in very coarse white piqué, one holding the sash of -the other, while behind them came a grey-haired and decidedly ugly -clergyman, who held the sash of the last and oldest sister. He gave her -some infantile pats from time to time with a morsel of briar which he -carried and desired her "to hould herself stiddy, and to kape it up."</p> - -<p>"Oh, oh, but me heart 'ull break—Bridget, me heart 'ull break. Did -I iver hear the like of the way this man goes on! Mr. Flannigan, -you belong to the Church of Ireland, and you ought to be ashamed of -yourself, beating a poor young colleen like me."</p> - -<p>"Hold up, Norah, don't let him get any nearer. Oh, by the powers! -whoever is that little pixie seated on the log!"</p> - -<p>Margot rose with considerable dignity from her seat. She approached the -two excited-looking, old young ladies. Their hair was sandy in tint -and much mixed with grey, but their figures were slight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> as girls of -fifteen, and they were evidently enjoying themselves to the utmost.</p> - -<p>"Oh, pixie, pixie, don't come near us," cried Norah. "Mr. Flannigan, -keep the pixie away for Heaven's sake."</p> - -<p>"I'm not a pixie," said little Margot. "I know you are very young, -Aunt Norah, and you are very young, Aunt Bridget, but I'm your niece -for all that. I am Marguerite St. Juste. I've come to pay my relations -a visit. Uncle Jack wrote a letter to The Desmond. The Desmond is my -grandfather. Aren't you expecting me? I'm glad to come, but I'd like -well to be expected."</p> - -<p>The two Misses Desmond stared with all their might and main at the -pretty child, then Miss Bridget Desmond gave a sort of whoop and spring -in the air, while Miss Norah laughed till her sides shook.</p> - -<p>"Heaven preserve us!" she exclaimed. "You don't suppose letters -are <i>ever</i> read at Desmondstown? Oh, but we are right glad to see -you—don't make any mistake on that point. We are as pleased as Punch, -aren't we, Bridget?"</p> - -<p>"That we are," said Bridget. "Don't hold my sash so tight, Mr. -Flannigan, I can't be bothered playing horse any more."</p> - -<p>"Oh, good little girls, dear little girls," said Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> Flannigan, "I'll -come in again to-morrow and play horses with all three of ye. But ye -might introduce me to the small colleen."</p> - -<p>"She's my niece," said Norah Desmond. "She's the daughter of my dearest -beautiful sister, Kathleen, and there's scarce a year between the child -and us, that I can vouch for."</p> - -<p>"To be sure, ye needn't be talkin' about that," said Mr. Flannigan. -"Why I see it in your faces—ye are three babies together."</p> - -<p>Little Margot gave a quick sigh. She remembered, however, the words of -Phinias and took no apparent notice of the fact that Aunt Norah must be -close on fifty and Aunt Bridget forty-eight.</p> - -<p>"We'll take you back home with us, little 'un," said the youngest of -the Misses Desmond. "Here, let's scamper down the avenue. Good day to -ye, Mr. Flannigan. There's no more playing at horses to-night. The -pixie is tired, so she is. Here, catch her under the arm, Bridget, and -I'll take her on the other side. Now then, put out your best foot, -colleen bawn, you'll soon be home. Eh, but it's an elegant place you -are coming to."</p> - -<p>The tumbled, untidy sisters managed to get little Margot down the rest -of the avenue, and presently they all bounded into the house, Miss -Norah giving vent to a loud "Whoop!" as she did so. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> - -<p>This noise brought two untidy looking men on the scene.</p> - -<p>"Be the powers, now, pixie, these are me brothers," said Norah. "This -one is Bruce and this one is Malachi—the finest horse-breaker in the -whole kingdom."</p> - -<p>"Oh, are you indeed, are you indeed?" said little Margot, "and you are -very young, too, though you <i>look</i> old."</p> - -<p>"It's the climate, <i>acushla</i>," said Malachi, "but whatever brings ye -wandering round, and who are ye, when all's said and done?"</p> - -<p>"Let me speak," interrupted Norah. "Bridget and me we were havin' a -game of horses with Mr. Flannigan, the new curate, and a rare bit of -fun we had out of it, too, when who should we see but this pixie seated -on the trunk of an old tree! She said her name was—whatever did ye say -your name was, pixie?"</p> - -<p>"I don't choose to be called pixie," said Margot. "My name is -Marguerite St. Juste, and my father was Comte St. Juste, and my mother -was Kathleen Desmond, very own sister to you all. I live with a dear, -darling, lovely uncle in England, but I thought I'd like to see -Desmondstown, and Uncle John wrote to The Desmond, who is grandfather -to me. I'd like well to see him, and there's my leather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> trunk, which -belonged to my mother, hiding under a big laurel bush at the gate. I -want to stay here for a full week and then I'll go away. Oh, I know you -are all terrible young. I was taught that on my way here. But you are -not as young as I am. Still, I don't mind your being young, if you play -with me and not let that dreadful curate talk to me."</p> - -<p>While little Margot was speaking, her eyes grew softer and darker and -brighter, the flaming red mounted into her cheeks and her young lips -trembled slightly.</p> - -<p>"I'm a bit hungry," she said after a pause, "and I don't see the armour -nor the ingle nook, nor the fire that never goes out day nor night."</p> - -<p>"Bless her heart," said Malachi, "who told you those lies about the -poor old place?"</p> - -<p>"They weren't lies, they were truths," said Margot. "My uncle, my -dearest darling Jacko, told me all about everything. Oh, but couldn't I -have a sup of milk or something? I'm so terrible thirsty."</p> - -<p>Before this very natural request could be granted, a door at the side -of the great hall was pushed open and an aged man with snow-white -hair and black eyes entered. He was followed by a little refined -gentlewoman, who looked a trifle nervous and kept on repeating, "Whist, -now, Fergus; the bit things must have their fun." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I don't allow noise and confusion in my house," said The Desmond, "and -whoever in the name of the Almighty is that?"</p> - -<p>"It is only me, grandfather," said Margot. "Uncle John wrote you a -letter about me. I wanted to see you so badly, I couldn't wait any -longer, on account of the longing that I had. I'm Margot St. Juste, -your very own little grandchild, and I want bitter bad, to have a sup -of milk. My mother was your daughter, Kathleen Desmond—and——"</p> - -<p>"What?" shouted the old chieftain.</p> - -<p>"Uncle Jack wrote to you about me, grandfather," said Margot, who with -difficulty was keeping back her tears.</p> - -<p>The old man strode a few paces into the great bare, empty hall. He -then turned the contents of his various pockets out and presently came -across Uncle Jacko's letter.</p> - -<p>"Here it is," said Margot, "here it is. Read it at once, will you, and -let me sit on your knee. I'm so glad you are old, really old. I don't -care for young people, not a bit. I know it is the will of the Almighty -that they must be young and keep young, but I like you because you are -old and my grand-dad. Please, please, let me sit on your knee."</p> - -<p>Just at that moment another door opened and a tall, stern-looking man, -with a strong resemblance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> to The Desmond, appeared on the scene. -"Why, look here, Fergus," said The Desmond, "this little pilcheen has -come along, and she is own daughter to my Kathleen, bless her. Bid her -welcome, Fergus. She shall have the best the house contains. Here's -your grandmother, missie, but you shall talk first with me. Norah, -order the dressing-room next to mine to be got ready for her, and have -a tray full of the best food brought into my smoking-room. Now then, -pilcheen——"</p> - -<p>"I'd rather you called me Margot, please, grand-dad."</p> - -<p>"Margot," said the old man, "Margot! There's no sense in such a word. -There! I'll call you Maggie; but you ought to have been christened -Kathleen, after her—her that's gone—her that was as the light of -my life. Girls, stir yourselves, and get everything ready for little -Maggie. Don't stare and gape any more. The child has come to us and she -is welcome and she shall stay as long as she likes. Now, my colleen -asthore, this lady is your grandmother, this is Madam Desmond. Girls, -stir yourselves and get things for the child to eat. Get the very best -the house contains and put the best furniture into the dressing-room. -Ain't she Kathleen's child? Madam, you and I and the little pilcheen -can sup together in the smoking-room. She's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> mighty like our Kathleen, -don't you think so, Madam?"</p> - -<p>"I do so," said Madam, "and I'm fairly hungry to kiss her, Fergus."</p> - -<p>"All right. Little pilcheen, you go along and kiss Madam six times and -no more, then come back to me. My God, I thank thee; she's my Kathleen -come to life again."</p> - -<p>Little Margot had quite got over her shyness. She was bewildered by the -queer manners of her so-called juvenile aunts, but grand-dad and Madam -delighted her. She climbed willingly on the old man's knee and nestled -snugly against his breast.</p> - -<p>"You are a very old man, aren't you, grand-dad?"</p> - -<p>"I am so, Maggie, and why shouldn't I be?"</p> - -<p>"I'm so glad," said little Margot. "And Madam is old, too," continued -the child.</p> - -<p>Madam smiled, nodded and kissed her hand.</p> - -<p>"Yes, darling, I'm quite old; thank the Almighty."</p> - -<p>"Then I'm real, real glad," said Margot. "It is so difficult to -understand old young people or young old people, I don't know which to -call 'em."</p> - -<p>"Listen to me, Margot," said her grandmother. "Your aunts, Eileen, -Norah, and Bridget, are young maids in their first dawn, and so for -that matter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> are Fergus and Bruce and Malachi also young as young can -be."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but I'm sorry," said little Margot. "I suppose it is all right. I -can't stay very long, grand-dad, darling, because I have faithful and -true to get back to Uncle Jack, for Uncle Jack is both my uncle and my -playfellow, but while I am here I would like most of the time to be -with you and Madam, 'cause I don't like old-young girls."</p> - -<p>"Come, let that be," said Madam. "The girls are only amusing -themselves, to be sure they are."</p> - -<p>Margot was quite silent for a minute.</p> - -<p>Jacko was a big man, but he was not nearly so big as The Desmond, and -she felt exceedingly comfortable nestling up in his arms, while his -snow-white beard gently touched her little brown face.</p> - -<p>"There's a trunk of mine," she said. "It is under a laurel bush by the -gate. Could one of the servants go and fetch it down, grandfather?"</p> - -<p>"Servants, bedad," exclaimed Malachi, who just then entered the room. -"Oh, yes, I'll see about the servants. I'll put everything as right as -rain."</p> - -<p>He marched out of the room.</p> - -<p>"If it is a heavy trunk, missie," he said, turning round with his -laughing eyes, "ye'll want about five men to hoist it on their -shoulders." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, that's easily done in a big place like this," he continued.</p> - -<p>Margot gave a contented little sigh. Madam followed her son out of the -room. She thought it well to lend a hand in the preparation of the wee -colleen's supper.</p> - -<p>When they were quite alone together, Margot turned and kissed The -Desmond several times.</p> - -<p>"You are my very own grand-dad," she said.</p> - -<p>"Yes, push-keen, I am that," said he.</p> - -<p>"I am so happy in your arms," continued Margot. "I'll tell you why. -First, because you are so big; second, because you are so beautiful and -old, and third because you belong to me."</p> - -<p>Again she kissed the brown cheek; and the brown eyes of the man looked -into the brown eyes of the child.</p> - -<p>"It's my Kathleen before she grew up," he whispered to himself, "before -she met that Frenchman, drat him."</p> - -<p>"Do you love me, grand-dad?" whispered Margot.</p> - -<p>"Yes, push-keen, I think a bit."</p> - -<p>"Will it be a good bit, soon, grand-dad?"</p> - -<p>"I'm thinking it might."</p> - -<p>Margot gave another sigh of intense and complete satisfaction. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I wanted to see the house and the place and the young girls and the -young boys and Madam, but I wanted most of all to see you, grand-dad."</p> - -<p>"Ah, now, that's proper," said The Desmond. Just then there was a -rustling outside the door, and Madam came in with a little tray, which -contained milk and bread and butter and home-made jam and new-laid eggs.</p> - -<p>Margot would not for a moment resign her post on The Desmond's knee, -but she allowed Madam to draw a little table forward and to feed her -from there. She ate with considerable appetite and looked prettier than -ever when her fatigue vanished.</p> - -<p>"And now I'm going to take you to bed, my baby," said Madam.</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes," said The Desmond. "Ye'll go off like a good colleen and -when ye are lying between the sheets—the finest linen for that -matter—— Mary, you didn't have any but the finest sheets put on the -pushkeen's bed?"</p> - -<p>"To be sure not, Fergus, why should I?"</p> - -<p>"Well, that's all right. You run off, my colleen, and I'll come and -kiss you good-night, just as I kissed my own Kathleen before the -Frenchman took her."</p> - -<p>So Margot, being very weary, obeyed. The leather portmanteau stood in -a very old and bare room, and Madam herself unpacked it and took out -what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> the child wanted for the night. At last the little tired limbs -lay between the soft Irish linen sheets and Madam kissed her grandchild -two or three times, whilst big tears filled her eyes.</p> - -<p>"What are you crying for, you darling old lady?" said little Margot.</p> - -<p>"I'm thinking of my Kathleen," said Madam.</p> - -<p>"I'm her little girl, therefore I'm <i>your</i> little girl," said Margot, -pressing her small lips together in ecstasy. "Kiss me, grandmother. -Grandmother, you love me, too."</p> - -<p>"I do, my best mavourneen, but now I must go and get himself up, or -he'll rage at me."</p> - -<p>Madam tripped downstairs and presently returned with The Desmond. He -had evidently given her a hint to leave him alone with Margot. When -they were quite alone together, he pulled the curtains across one of -the windows and opened the window a little wider to let in the fresh -air, then he came close to Margot's side and kneeling down by her made -the following speech:</p> - -<p>"Ye need have no fear in ye, my push-keen colleen. Do ye see that door? -It opens into Madam's room and mine. If you call out even a whisper -I'll be with ye. Now say your hymn like a good child and God bless ye."</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> - -<p>"My hymn, what hymn?" said Margot in some astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Why, didn't they never teach it to ye? What a powerful, wicked shame, -but you are young and you'll soon learn. Your mother used to say it to -me every night when she was a young 'un. Come, fold your little hands -and follow me with the words."</p> - -<p>Margot did so. The hymn was a very baby one and very well known, but -Aunt Priscilla had never thought it worth her while to teach it to the -baby Margot. The Desmond had different views.</p> - -<p>"Now begin, <i>acushla machree</i>."</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Look upon a little child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pity my simplicity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Suffer me to come to thee.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fain would I to thee be brought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dearest Lord, forbid it not;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the Kingdom of thy grace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grant a little child a place.<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IV.</span> <span class="smaller">OLD YOUNG PEOPLE.</span></h2> - -<p>Whether it was her great fatigue or the fact that she was sleeping at -last in the home of her ancestors, or the other fact that there was -at least <i>one</i> dear old man living at Desmondstown, little Margot St. -Juste slept like a top during the whole of that first night in the -house where her mother had been born. She slept so soundly that she was -quite unconscious of the fact that The Desmond, accompanied by Madam, -entered the hastily improvised bedroom at the dawn of day and bent over -the child. There was a look of positive rapture on both their old faces.</p> - -<p>"Eh, but she's our Kathleen to the life," said Madam.</p> - -<p>"It's the Almighty has sent her to comfort us in our old age," said The -Desmond. "Step softly Madam, <i>macree</i>. Don't for the life of you wake -the bit thing."</p> - -<p>So little Margot was allowed to have her sleep out, but when she awoke -she stared about her in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> great bewilderment. Her three old young -uncles, and her three old young aunts were collected round the bed. -The moment she stirred, Norah made that sort of "whoop" for which she -was so celebrated, and disappeared from the room. She danced into her -father's presence. She was wearing a pink dress and was attired also -in a pale pink sash. Her hair was full of curl papers. She looked -singularly old, but had all the actions of a frolicsome kitten.</p> - -<p>"The pixie is awake, father," she said.</p> - -<p>This was the signal for intense excitement. The Desmond desired his -daughter to behave herself and put away some of her childishness.</p> - -<p>"I can't help being young, I <i>am</i> young," replied Norah.</p> - -<p>"You're not; you are a withered twig," said The Desmond. "Find Madam -and tell her that the child is awake. Madam will see to her breakfast; -and try to dress like a woman of your years, Norah. You are nothing but -a figure of fun in that pink dress and pale pink sash."</p> - -<p>Norah laughed, winked, showed her really white fine teeth and -disappeared from the room. She found old Madam without much difficulty -and soon a cosy breakfast was brought up to little Margot. She was in -the midst of enjoying her second egg when The Desmond popped in his -silvery head. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Hullo," he said, "so here we are again."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes, and it is <i>lovely</i> to see you, grand-dad, and please come -and sit close to me and send the old young girls and the old young boys -away. Only Madam may stay if she likes, for she's a perfect darling. -Tell her—tell her to feed me. I like to be petted and I love <i>really</i> -old people, but I don't like old young people to call me 'pixie' and -'pushkeen.'"</p> - -<p>With a wave of his hand, which was at once imperative and intensely -severe, The Desmond cleared the room of all his sons and daughters. -Madam sat down on the side of the bed and fed Margot, who gave herself -up to intense present enjoyment.</p> - -<p>"I'm so happy, granny," she said, looking at the old lady, "and I'm so -happy, grand-dad," she continued, taking the old chieftain's withered -hand and pressing her soft lips to it. "Oh, I am so very glad that you -are both really old. I don't like old young, I don't, really, truly."</p> - -<p>"Now you, child, you," said Madam, "don't you run down your aunts and -your uncles. They are all young and kittenish."</p> - -<p>"They are not Mary, and you know it perfectly well," said The Desmond. -"The child is right; she is full of sense. She's exactly like my -Kathleen, God bless her." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> - -<p>The fuss which was made over the wardrobe of little Margot could -scarcely be excelled. There was no such thing as a modern bathroom at -Desmondstown, but a great tub, which was used for washing clothes, was -hoisted into the room by two stalwart women. Then it was made the exact -right heat, and Madam and her three daughters—for nothing would keep -these old young ladies a minute longer out of the room—superintended -the washing and dressing of little Margot.</p> - -<p>Eileen was the quietest of the three sisters. She was also the -prettiest and the youngest. She had been out at what was called a -barn-dance on the previous evening and this was her first proper view -of the little arrival. Eileen, when she was really young, must have -been very pretty. She had the deep, dark blue eyes of her countrywomen, -and the soft dark hair which curled naturally all over her head. Unlike -her sisters, she was not obliged to have recourse to curl papers and -little Margot looked at her with her soft, dark brown eyes full of -admiration.</p> - -<p>Her own dress was very plain, though neat, and Eileen chose out of the -child's belongings a simple white dress which she was to wear with a -faded green sash that belonged to Eileen herself.</p> - -<p>"You must wear it to-day, push-keen," she said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> "as a welcome to old -Ireland. Isn't it the country of the green, Madam?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, to be sure," replied the old grandmother, "and you might go out -and pick a bunch of shamrocks and fasten it in the front of her dress, -Norah."</p> - -<p>Norah gambolled like a veritable kitten downstairs. She returned -presently with a great bunch of shamrocks, which was carefully pinned -into Margot's white frock.</p> - -<p>"Are ye rested now, pretty dear?" asked Norah.</p> - -<p>"Yes, to be sure I am, Aunt Norah, and I feel so—so <i>fat</i>."</p> - -<p>"Poor lamb," cried Madam, "she hasn't been half fed where she was."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but I have," cried Margot. "Uncle Jacko fed me fine and so did -Hannah. It was a wicked woman who interfered."</p> - -<p>"A wicked woman, lawk a mercy!" cried Bridget. "What in the world had a -wicked woman to do with you, pixie?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not allowed to mention her name," said little Margot. "Don't ask -me any more questions, for I've taken an oath and I won't break it. I'd -like to go straight to grand-dad—that's what I'd like."</p> - -<p>"You can't just now, pretty dear," said Madam, "he always sleeps at -this hour, but he'll be up and about by mid-day dinner." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You'd best come and play horses with us on the lawn," said Bridget and -Norah, simultaneously.</p> - -<p>"No, I don't want to. You'll have that awful old man there."</p> - -<p>"Is it Mr. Flannigan you mean?" asked Bridget. "Why he's little better -than a chick newly hatched—like the rest of us for that matter," she -continued.</p> - -<p>"Are you all just newly hatched?" asked Margot, looking with great -curiosity at the figures of her old young aunts.</p> - -<p>"To be sure, you've about said it," exclaimed Norah.</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm a great deal older than you," said Margot, "so I'll let -you play with the newly hatched chicken and I'll go and see Phinias -Maloney."</p> - -<p>"For the Lord's sake what does the child mean now?" exclaimed Madam, a -little indignant colour flooding her cheeks.</p> - -<p>"I mean what I say," replied Margot. "He's a dear old man—he's not a -gentleman, but I like him all the better on account of that, for he's -got a gentleman's heart inside his skin. I'll go and see him now while -grand-dad is asleep—that is, if you don't mind, Madam."</p> - -<p>"We'll all go, if it comes to that," said Norah.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> "Think of you picking -up with Phinias Maloney, the roughest old farmer in the county."</p> - -<p>"But I don't want to go with you, I want to go alone," said Margot. "He -and I are great friends, and I slept with my head on his shoulder all -the way into Kerry. What are you laughing at? Why are you looking at me -as you are doing?"</p> - -<p>"I'm fit to let out a screech," said Norah. "To think of one of the -Desmonds falling asleep with her head on the shoulder of Phinias -Maloney. It's enough to make a cat laugh, let alone a human being."</p> - -<p>"Then, please, Aunt Norah, laugh as much as you like while I am away," -said Margot. "I must be back in time to sit with my grand-dad. I've a -great deal to say to him and the time is short."</p> - -<p>"It's Sunday; you oughtn't to be thinking of your pleasures," said -Eileen, who had a more refined voice than her sisters. "Mother, she -can't go to see Phinias to-day, she really can't. Put on your pretty -little white hat, pixie, and we'll take you to church."</p> - -<p>Margot was of course accustomed to going to church on Sunday and -after a moment's hesitation, during which her little face looked very -downcast, she agreed to Eileen's suggestion.</p> - -<p>"I'll go," she said, "on a condition—it's all my own." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And what's that?" asked Eileen.</p> - -<p>"It's that you walk on one side of me, and my young uncle Fergus on the -other; then I'll know where I am, for you talk sense."</p> - -<p>Norah tried in vain to be offended, but as this was absolutely -impossible to her nature and as Bridget was equally the soul of good -humour, the little party started for the small village church a few -minutes later, Margot looking very neat and even distinguished between -her old young aunt and her old young uncle.</p> - -<p>She sat very still during service and kept her soft black eyes fixed -on Mr. Flannigan. Was it possible that he was the same person who -had played horses with her aunts on the previous day? He read the -service with a good deal of force and realism, and preached a sermon -which was so full of Irish stories that Norah and Bridget kept their -handkerchiefs pressed against their mouths to keep themselves from -screaming with laughter.</p> - -<p>All went apparently well until the service came to an end, but then the -curate threw off his church manners and devoted himself to Miss Norah -and Miss Bridget. He was invited back to dinner by both these young -ladies and eagerly accepted the invitation.</p> - -<p>"So this is the pixie," he said, his eyes fixed on Margot. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, it isn't," said Margot, "but you are the newly hatched chick."</p> - -<p>Mr. Flannigan felt his red face turning redder than usual.</p> - -<p>"Whatever do you mean?" he replied.</p> - -<p>Just then they got inside the grounds.</p> - -<p>"Thank Heaven for all its mercies," said Norah. "I can let out a good -screech now, and no one will be any the wiser. I said, Sam Flannigan, -that you were a newly-hatched chicken, when she was taunting me about -your age, man. Oh, isn't it fun? I never enjoyed myself so much in my -life."</p> - -<p>"Nor did I, for that matter," cried Bridget. "It's a pity it is Sunday, -for we can't play horses."</p> - -<p>"Do let's walk a little faster, Uncle Fergus," said Margot turning to -her uncle.</p> - -<p>His grave face looked at her searchingly, then he said in a quiet tone,</p> - -<p>"The avenue is a bit too long for a wee thing like you. See, I'm going -to stoop. Put your arms round my neck, <i>so</i>. Now, then, hold tight. I -have you on my shoulder as firm as can be."</p> - -<p>"Oh, thank you, thank you," said Margot. "I do like you, Uncle Fergus, -and I like Eileen."</p> - -<p>"But why don't you like the others? They are harmless enough, poor bit -things."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but they were not hatched yesterday," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> Margot. "That I do -know and I won't play horses with that horrid Mr. Flannigan!"</p> - -<p>"Malachi is fit to tear his hair," exclaimed Fergus. "He has just sent -off a stud of horses to Dublin for sale, so there isn't one he can -offer ye to ride."</p> - -<p>"I like <i>you</i> very much as a horse, Uncle Fergus," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Do ye now? Well, that's all right."</p> - -<p>"Did you love my mother, Uncle Fergus?"</p> - -<p>"To be sure, but we don't talk of her."</p> - -<p>"Why not, why ever not?"</p> - -<p>"Because it hurts the old man; we have to be very careful about the old -man. You listen, child, mavourneen. He never got over her marrying a -Frenchy."</p> - -<p>"But my father had a title, he was Comte St. Juste."</p> - -<p>"As if that mattered," said Fergus, in a tone of violent contempt. "A -title indeed, the Lord preserve us! The Desmonds don't want any title -greater than their own."</p> - -<p>"Is it very high up, Uncle Fergus?"</p> - -<p>"High up? The stars couldn't reach it. There isn't a royal Duke in -England we'd change with."</p> - -<p>"Isn't there? I didn't know," said Margot. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> spoke in a very soft, -interested voice. "And some day you'll have it," she said.</p> - -<p>"Yes; but for the Lord's sake don't mention the awful time when the old -man is took from us."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Uncle Fergus, I <i>do</i> love you," said Margot and she bent down and -kissed him on his brow.</p> - -<p class="space-above">It was two or three days later that The Desmond and his son, Fergus, -had a long and important conversation behind locked doors. "I'm willing -to do my share," said Fergus Desmond.</p> - -<p>"I knew you were, my boy. You have never disappointed me yet."</p> - -<p>"And I won't begin now, father," said the son.</p> - -<p>"We can't let her go," said The Desmond, "that's the thing."</p> - -<p>"I see your heart is set on her," remarked Fergus.</p> - -<p>"Set on her! It is fastened on her like a vise. I don't know myself -since she came to the place. She's her blessed mother back again. Who -is that man who has the charge of her, Fergus? Is he her uncle at all, -at all?"</p> - -<p>"She seems very fond of him," said Fergus, "but I don't see how he can -be her uncle. He has taken very good care of her all these years, and -never asked us for so much as a penny."</p> - -<p>"I tell you what it is, Fergus," said The <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>Desmond. "You must go across -the water and see the man and put it straight to him that we can't give -her up."</p> - -<p>"I don't see how I can exactly do that, father," said Fergus; "he's had -her since she was a babe and maybe she is as much to him as she is to -us."</p> - -<p>"Fergus, you talk folly. Is The Desmond's heart to be broken because of -a common sort of chap like John Mansfield?"</p> - -<p>"We must act fair," said Fergus, "and what's more, if we adopt her, -we must adopt her properly. She must be schooled. She must be treated -like the lady she is. We don't want any more Norahs and Bridgets in the -house."</p> - -<p>"No, no; of course not, of course not," said The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"She must be taught," said Fergus Desmond, "and the teaching will cost -money, a sight of money. I know a lady who'd do it," he continued. -"Miss Drusilla McNab—she has got fine learning entirely, foreign -languages and all else, and she can play the piano and sing to make -your heart burst. I might manage to settle it with her if we paid her -properly, but we can't have one of the Desmonds disgracing herself and -us by eating the bread of charity."</p> - -<p>"How old is Drusilla McNab?" asked The Desmond. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> - -<p>"She's thirty-five, father, and she lives at Rockingham, and Malachi -could drive the kiddie over there each morning and fetch her back in -the evening. But we couldn't offer Miss Drusilla less than £20 a year. -We couldn't in all decency."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed The Desmond. "Twenty pounds, when we have -scarcely got so many pence. Can't you and I teach the bit thing, -Fergus?"</p> - -<p>"No, we can't," said Fergus. "She must be taught properly and like -a real, out-and-out lady. Miss McNab was educated in Paris and the -pushkeen is going to be a wonderful beauty. She must be taught -according to her station. She'll make a fine match some day."</p> - -<p>"I want her to stay with me," said The Desmond. "I don't wish for any -of those fine matches for the pretty dear."</p> - -<p>"Well, it will come, father; for she is the handsomest little girl I -ever looked at."</p> - -<p>"And why not," said old Desmond, his eyes flashing a sort of blue fire. -"Isn't she her mother's child?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but she is better-looking than Kathleen. Don't fret, old man, -accept the fact. She has got a look of our Kathleen, but she must -take after her father, too. She doesn't get those eyes only from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> our -Kathleen. Why, they look as though you could never reach to the back of -them."</p> - -<p>"To be sure," said The Desmond. "Well, I can't part with her; that's -plain. I'm alive all over again, and quite young with the thought of -having her in the house."</p> - -<p>"It'll take money to settle this matter, father," said Fergus. "If -this John Mansfield is her real uncle, he mayn't want to give her up, -and he can't be forced to give her up. It strikes me we'll have to pay -him. Money settles most difficulties. Now my notion is this. You have -turned against the Comte St. Juste, although you never clapped eyes -on him. When our Kathleen took him for better or worse, you said you -wouldn't see him or write to him or have anything to do with him. Then -our girleen died after giving birth to the little one and then the poor -Comte died, also, and you never breathed the name, never once, of the -little colleen. But she came to you of her own accord and you have lost -your heart to her."</p> - -<p>"Lost my heart! I tell you, Fergus, my man, I'm mad about her."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, we must get some one in to settle this question. I'll -go by this very night's mail to John Mansfield and then, it strikes -me—hold yourself in now, father, don't burst out. It strikes me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> I -might go on to those French people and perhaps they'd help their son's -child. You must keep her here by hook or by crook until I get back. -I'll get the address of the French people from John Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"But we don't even know Mansfield's address," muttered The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I see my way to that," said Fergus. "Will you put the matter into -my hands, father, and I'll do my level best. There's that nice little -farm of Cromartie's. We can mortgage that by-and-bye to get the little -bit dear a dowry, but that's for the future. I'd do anything on earth -to please you, dad, and Miss Drusilla McNab can turn the wee colleen -into a fine lady. I'm thinking that between John Mansfield and those -French folks I'll manage something. Can you give me that old gold -watch, father, and a couple of pound notes just to take me to Dublin? -That's all the money I'll ask for the present."</p> - -<p>The interview ended by The Desmond putting two very crumpled and as a -matter of fact very dirty one pound notes into Fergus' hand. He then -gave him the old gold repeater and told him to be as quick a boy about -his business as ever he could.</p> - -<p>Fergus said as he was leaving the room, "Now, look you here, old man, -this is a scheme between you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> and me and neither Madam herself nor the -three girls, nor the boys, Bruce and Malachi, are to know anything -whatsoever about it. If it can be done, it will be done, and I'm the -boy to do it."</p> - -<p>"Whist, lad," said his father, "where are you off to now?"</p> - -<p>"You leave it to me, father, I must manage in my own way."</p> - -<p>The Desmond sank back into his chair, his dark eyes deep and lustrous -and a smile playing round his lips.</p> - -<p>If only Fergus could succeed, if only he might keep the little -mavourneen. He closed his eyes and slowly two tears fell over his -wrinkled cheeks. He was thinking of a possible joy and of a past grief, -but Fergus was the boy—there wasn't his like in the county.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Fergus made his way out by the backyard, crossed a -tumbled-down stile without anyone noticing him and made his way in a -bee line to the farm which was rented by Phinias Maloney.</p> - -<p>Phinias was one of his father's best tenants and accordingly was -entitled to a certain degree of respect. He never bothered about -repairs either, and although the farm was going to ruin, he paid his -rent each quarter-day like a man, and never asked for improvements. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What did a little drop of wather matter," he said to "Herself," when -the rain poured in through the badly thatched roof, "and whyever should -they be botherin' theirselves about filling up gaps and such like. -Wasn't The Desmond as bad off as himself and was <i>he</i> goin' to ruin The -Desmond, not he! The gaps were mighty convanient for the young chickens -and young ducklings to run in and out of the house and to take shelter -when it rained hard on the roof of the old barn."</p> - -<p>Yes, the farm was good enough for Phinias, if Desmondstown was good -enough for The Desmond, and "Herself" must hold her chatter for he -wasn't going to ask for what couldn't be done.</p> - -<p>Thus the days went by and the weeks went by and Phinias was perfectly -happy in the broken-down farm, but his delight knew no bounds when on a -certain morning a little figure stepped lightly across the badly-kept -yard, which was full of holes and numerous little pools of water in -which young ducklings disported themselves.</p> - -<p>"Why, if it isn't the little missie herself," cried Phinias. He strode -out to meet Margot, who put her little cool hand into his.</p> - -<p>"Oh, oh, Mr. Phinias Maloney, I couldn't get away a day sooner. I love -The Desmond like mad and Madam and Fergus, but I don't care for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -young old girls—only Aunt Eileen isn't so bad as the other two. They -said they was only hatched about yesterday. When was you hatched, Mr. -Phinias Maloney? You look miles younger than they do."</p> - -<p>"Ah, whist, my little <i>acushla machree</i>" said the farmer, "kape it up -to thim that they are young and you'll be as happy as the day is long."</p> - -<p>"But I don't want to. I like Aunt Eileen tolerable, and I love Uncle -Fergus and I dote on my grand-dad and Madam. Oh, I say, I had to run -away to come to you, Phinias, and there is Uncle Fergus coming in at -the gate."</p> - -<p>"Do you want to hide from him, pretty one?" said Phinias.</p> - -<p>"Is it I that would hide?" said little Margot. "That's not me. Hullo, -Uncle Fergus. I ran away this morning, all my lonesome, to have a talk -with dear Phinias."</p> - -<p>Fergus Desmond looked decidedly annoyed, but the frown quickly swept -from his brow.</p> - -<p>"Phinias," he said, turning to the man, "I want to have a few words in -private with you. Take little missie in and introduce her to 'Herself' -and the youngest baby."</p> - -<p>"Oh, a baby!" cried Margot. "When—<i>when</i> was it hatched? Does it look -as old as young Aunt Norah?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Whist, whist, missie darlint, come this way," said Phinias.</p> - -<p>He took the little hand and led the child into the tumble-down kitchen.</p> - -<p>"No remarks," he said, "<i>if</i> you please," dropping his voice to a -whisper and introducing the little girl to "Herself," a handsome -blue-eyed young woman of the true Kerry type of beauty. "The place is a -bit shook up, I'm not goin' for to deny it; but neither will I let The -Desmond be bothered puttin' it right. Now there's a straight tip for -you, little missie. Annie, mavourneen, here's a swate little lady from -Desmondstown, who I brought across the say all the way from England. -She has come to pay us a call, kape her with yourself, Annie. I'll be -back again in a twinklin'."</p> - -<p>"When was the last baby hatched?" said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Bless your heart, little missie," said Mrs. Maloney, "we don't talk of -childer as hatched. He's two months old. I've called him Phinias after -his dadda."</p> - -<p>"Oh, oh, <i>let</i> me hold him," said little Margot, "oh, oh, I'm so glad -he wasn't hatched. My aunties are hatched about every second day and it -makes them so terrible young, and so, so <i>queer</i>. Isn't he a perfect -darling? May I kiss him, Mrs. Phinias—'cause I'm <i>so</i> fond of your -husband."</p> - -<p>"Bless you, pretty one, to be sure you may."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER V.</span> <span class="smaller">"I'LL EXPLAIN TO YOURSELF."</span></h2> - -<p>While little Margot and "Herself" were engrossed over the -two-months-old baby and Margot was expressing her intense delight that -it was <i>really</i> a very young baby—"<i>proper</i> young," she said, raising -her deep, dark eyes to the young mother's face—Fergus Desmond was -giving way to a certain amount of anger. He was a good fellow, one of -the best in Ireland, but he was eaten up with an Irishman's pride and -he did not want his little niece to be "hail-fellow-well-met" even with -so good a man as Phinias Maloney.</p> - -<p>A slight consideration, however, caused him to see the absurdity of -these feelings. He had no cause to abuse poor Phinias, who was one of -his own father's best tenants. The frown, therefore, smoothed away from -his brow and he walked beside Phinias into one of the meadows at the -back of the tumble-down farm.</p> - -<p>"Ye may wonder that missie comes to see me, sir," exclaimed Phinias, -who had been quite quick enough to discern the frown of displeasure -on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> young masther's brow. "Why, thin, I'll explain to yourself," -he continued. "She's a little miss that ain't to be seen often, and -she was put into my charge on board the boat. Why to be sure I didn't -recognise John Mansfield at the first go-off, but when I did, I -couldn't but accept the duty put on me. She's a dear little miss and -wasn't no throuble at all even to sphake about, only she was fair mad -to get to Desmondstown."</p> - -<p>"Now, listen, Phinias, I want to speak to you," said Fergus. "Time is -short and there is a great deal to be done. I want you to tell me, my -good fellow, all that you know of John Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"All that I know, Mr. Desmond? I know nought but what's good about the -best gintleman that ever walked. It isn't to say that he's middlin' -good, but he's high up among the saints, your honour. He's a priest of -the Holy Church. Nobody must say a word against John Mansfield 'fore -me, yer beautiful honour."</p> - -<p>"I don't want to say a word against the man," said Fergus. "You just -told me that he put a little child into your care."</p> - -<p>"Yes, he did, and as dacent and as purty a colleen as could be found in -the breadth of the British Isles."</p> - -<p>"I know all about her," said Fergus. "The child<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> is a dear child. She -is my niece and granddaughter to The Desmond, but what I want to find -out is this—how she comes to be niece also to John Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"Sure then, did ye never hear of Farmer Mansfield of these parts?"</p> - -<p>"What," said Fergus, stepping back a pace and a frown coming over his -handsome features. "You don't mean to insinuate that my niece is a -relation of that old scoundrel?"</p> - -<p>"The man took to dhrink and dhrink finished him entirely," said -Phinias, "but his son John was always a good boy, always and -forever—good of the good and best of the best, and how could he -possibly be responsible for the sins of his fathers? He saved money and -had himself eddicated—eh, fine; fine. He's a mighty scholard is John -Mansfield and has the gentlest and truest heart in the world and he -took missie when she was a babby and reared her up fine and she calls -him her uncle."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, he's not her uncle," said Fergus.</p> - -<p>"Don't be so sure of that, Mr. Desmond, your honour. He's her uncle -near as much as you are."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" said Desmond.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell ye, sir, if ye'll give me time to get me breath. Well, it -was like this. You may remember how beautiful, lovely Miss Kathleen -went to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>London and married a Frenchy, but nobody ever said a word -about Miss Priscilla."</p> - -<p>Fergus found himself starting.</p> - -<p>"Miss Priscilla got tired of the life at Desmondstown and she come to -me one evening late, as sure as I'm standing here, and she says, says -she, 'I'm going to London after Kathleen, and if Kathleen has married, -why shouldn't I?' Eh, to be sure I did what I could to stop her, but -she would have her way. She wrote to The Desmond and tell't him that -she had married and she didn't want no bones made about it, and she -never mentioned the name of her husband, honest man. I've heard tell -that she's turned out a sharp, sour woman, but she's married to John -Mansfield—the best man that ever walked. So he's uncle by marriage to -little missie. It's all a fact, yer honour, ye can't help it. Ye must -swallow your pride, and all I can say is this, that John Mansfield -deserved a better lot."</p> - -<p>"Well, tell me this," said Fergus after a time. "I never cared for -Priscilla—we none of us did—she was the eldest of the whole house, -even older than my sister Norah, and tried to rule us with a rod of -iron. If it hadn't been for my father, The Desmond, she would have made -the place unbearable. So she took the child when her parents died?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - -<p>"She did so," replied Phinias. "It was the only good thing she done as -far as I hear tell on."</p> - -<p>"Listen to me, Phinias," said Fergus, "I want your help in this matter."</p> - -<p>"To be sure, to be sartin sure, yer honour."</p> - -<p>"Well, it's like this," said Fergus. "Don't you let it out to your wife -or your neighbours. Keep it close within your breast."</p> - -<p>"I will that, yer honour. I am wonderful at kapin' a sacret."</p> - -<p>"Well, this is the state of things," said Fergus. "My father is an old -man and full of years, and Madam, bless her heart, is not too young, -and they've both taken a fancy to the little push-keen. We want to keep -her, Phinias."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lord, sir; yer honour I mane, whatever for?"</p> - -<p>"For the sake of my father," said Fergus. "He's gone fair mad over the -child, and if John Mansfield has got a grain of human nature in him, he -won't part the child from her own true grandfather. I'm going to see -him to-night, but not a word is to be mentioned to little miss, and I -want you to give me his address, Phinias Maloney."</p> - -<p>"Well, to be sure, I can do that fine," said Phinias. "Didn't he give -me his kyard when he put the bit colleen into my care, and didn't -he look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> nigh to weepin'. He's an elegant man, yer honour, and he -loves the little colleen like anythin'. There's nothin' on earth he -wouldn't do for the pretty dear, but I can see that he's mortal afraid -of 'herself'—that's Miss Priscilla that was. His address is Handley -Vicarage, Balderstown, near Earlminster. You won't see much of the -old farmer in the Rev. John Mansfield, yer honour. To look at, he's a -gintleman as good as yourself and with 'the spiritual eye.'"</p> - -<p>"Whatever do you mean by that, Phinias?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, thin," exclaimed Phinias, "it's given but to a rare few, and they -lives—well, somewhere above the stars I'm thinking—close to the -golden gates, by the same token. There's no difference between 'The's' -and Priests and Marquises and Counts where <i>he</i> has fixed his gaze, yer -honour. He's a howly man, that's what he be and 'the spiritual eye' in -him is downright wonderful."</p> - -<p>"Well, thank ye, Phinias," said Fergus, after a pause. "I don't quite -understand your full meaning, but I want the wee push-keen for my -father, and if I can get her I will. How, then, will you call her out -to me, for she may as well ride home on my shoulder?"</p> - -<p>"Ah to be sure, the pretty bit dear," said the farmer.</p> - -<p>He entered his untidy kitchen somewhat <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>sorrowfully. He was thinking of -John Mansfield. He did not see—being a very upright man himself—why -even The Desmond should be considered, when he had taken no notice at -all of the little 'herself' all these long, long years, and he thought -his honour, Mr. Fergus, somewhat cruel to drag the child from his own -friend.</p> - -<p>Fergus, however, having got the information he required did not give -Phinias Maloney a further thought.</p> - -<p>Margot, in the highest spirits, rode back to Desmondstown on her -uncle's shoulder. She had by this time become great friends with Aunt -Eileen and she endured the passionate caresses of old young Aunt Norah -and old young Aunt Bridget. She chattered a good deal as they all ate -their lunch together about the baby who was real—real young.</p> - -<p>Aunt Norah let out one of her whoops and then one of her screeches, but -The Desmond was too much absorbed with his plan to take much notice of -her. On that same evening Fergus started for Rosslare <i>en route</i> for -Fishguard. He managed to find time to sell the old gold repeater and -had in consequence sufficient money in his pocket for his immediate -wants.</p> - -<p>Fergus Desmond did not much mind his shabby attire, nor his -unwieldy-looking boots, nor his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>altogether Irish appearance. He had -a goal in view and that goal he was determined to carry through if it -cost him half his life. The Desmond was mad about little Margot and The -Desmond must be satisfied.</p> - -<p>All in good time he arrived at Handley Vicarage. He enquired at once -for the Rev. John Mansfield. Hannah opened the door for him and stared -at him a good bit. It seemed as though Hannah, who was a most astute -woman, was tracing out a likeness between Fergus and somebody else. Who -could the somebody else be? Surely—surely not the bit girlie. Hannah -was devoted to Margot and had bitterly regretted her visit to Ireland, -but she was in all the throes of spring cleaning at the present moment, -and altogether it was an awkward time for Fergus Desmond to come.</p> - -<p>"My master's out at the present moment," she said, "but if you'll tell -me your name, sir, I'll let him know if you'd like to call again."</p> - -<p>"I'll wait here for him, thanks," said Fergus, "and I'd rather not give -my name."</p> - -<p>"He's a burglar like as not," thought Hannah, but there was something -so masterful and big and grave about this dark-eyed man that she could -not by any possibility attempt to oppose him. She accordingly put him -into the study and a few minutes later John Mansfield entered the room. -John <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>Mansfield was thought a tall man by his English parishioners, but -as he crossed the room to welcome the stranger, who was totally and -completely a stranger to him, he looked small by comparison with Fergus -Desmond.</p> - -<p>Fergus, however, was immediately fired by that curious admiration -for the man himself, which all those who knew him felt. There was, -according to Phinias, "the spiritual eye" very distinctly visible in -John Mansfield.</p> - -<p>"I must introduce myself," said Fergus. "I am an Irishman."</p> - -<p>"Ah, to be sure, sit down, won't ye?" said John Mansfield. His heart -gave a thump in his breast. Ireland for him at that moment only meant -Desmondstown, where his little Margot, his little treasure, was staying.</p> - -<p>"And my name," continued Fergus, dropping into a chair, "is Fergus -Desmond."</p> - -<p>"Not—not of Desmondstown!" gasped John Mansfield. "My God, speak the -truth at once, lad—not of Desmondstown?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of Desmondstown, where else?"</p> - -<p>"Then you have brought bad news—something has gone wrong with my—my -little darling."</p> - -<p>"No, sir, nothing has gone wrong. Ease your mind, once and for all. -The child has won the love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> of everyone in the house, and The Desmond -and Madam they want to keep her. That's what I've come about, Mr. -Mansfield. For the matter of that, you are my brother-in-law, sir. You -have married my sister Priscilla."</p> - -<p>"I have so," said Mansfield, "and she's a good woman."</p> - -<p>"She's not at home now, is she?" asked Fergus.</p> - -<p>"No, thank the—I mean she won't be back for over a week, Mr. Desmond."</p> - -<p>"You had best call me Fergus, John," said the other man.</p> - -<p>"If you like it, I will, but it don't seem fair. I never set myself up -to be one of your class."</p> - -<p>"Well, never mind that, you are married to my eldest sister and you are -a good man; I can see that by your face."</p> - -<p>"I try my best, Mr. Fergus, but we are none of us good. There's a heavy -load of sin on us all, and I'm no better than my neighbours."</p> - -<p>"You ask Phinias Maloney and he'll tell you a very different story," -said Fergus, a grim smile passing over his stern features.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Phinias," said John Mansfield. "He always had the heart of the -matter in him. But tell me again what you have come about, Mr. Fergus. -You don't want to take my girleen from me." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That's what I do want. Tell me truthfully, does her aunt love the -child?"</p> - -<p>"I can't say that she does," replied John Mansfield, "but discipline is -good for us all."</p> - -<p>"Well now, listen to me, John Mansfield. The Desmond is getting old and -when an old man sets his heart on a thing, it's bad—it's terribly bad -to upset him. Let him have all his wishes until the breath leaves his -body."</p> - -<p>"Sir, why didn't The Desmond write about little Margot before now?"</p> - -<p>"He didn't think of her and that's the truth," said Fergus.</p> - -<p>"But I <i>did</i> think of her," said John Mansfield. "She's the light of -my heart—the joy of my life. Haven't I trained her and loved her and -taught her since her father's death when she was barely two years of -age? I had hard work to bring Priscilla round to my keeping her at all, -but now—now she's my sunshine and joy and you want to take her from -me. Don't you think you're a cruel man, Mr. Desmond?"</p> - -<p>"No I don't; I'm thinking that the old man won't live long. I expect it -is a bit of a sacrifice to you, John Mansfield, but you might think of -the old who have so few days before them. And the little one shall have -every care and be well taught and even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> have a dowry provided for her. -I am sure your wife would give her consent, and she's <i>her</i> niece—not -yours—John Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"That's true; Priscilla wouldn't mind," said Mansfield. "She'd be glad -to get rid of her."</p> - -<p>"Then, man, whyever do you hesitate? You are only her uncle by -marriage. You can't keep her away from her grandfather if he wants her."</p> - -<p>John Mansfield rose from his seat and walked to the window. He stood -there for some time, looking out with a very steady and fixed gaze. At -the end of that time the cloud which had covered his brow disappeared. -Then he went up to Desmond and laid his delicate and refined hand on -the other man's shoulder.</p> - -<p>"I won't say any longer that you are doing a cruel thing," he said, -"but if it's a case of adoption, I must get Priscilla's leave, and I -must go to the present Comte St. Juste and see what he says about his -son's child being adopted by the Desmonds. If it's done it must be done -properly."</p> - -<p>"I'm willing; I'm quite willing," said Fergus. "Where does the Comte -St. Juste live?"</p> - -<p>"At a place called Arles in France. There's the old château still -standing and I'm told they are terribly poor, but the child belongs to -them as much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> as to you. I hear they are greedy, too; they may want a -hit of money to give her up."</p> - -<p>"John Mansfield," said Fergus, "if you lend me fifty pounds you and I -might go together to see the Comte St. Juste and I'll pay it back to -you as sure as I am a Desmond of Desmondstown when I return home again. -Let us start at once, my good sir. You'll help me to get the little one -for my father."</p> - -<p>"I got my quarter's income yesterday," said John Mansfield. "I must -keep some of it to live on, but I can let you have thirty pounds. I -didn't know when I sent my little treasure to Desmondstown that it -would come to this. You must do with thirty pounds, Fergus Desmond, I -can't spare any more."</p> - -<p>"I'll do with thirty pounds," said Desmond.</p> - -<p>"Very well; we'll start for London to-night. This is the room where she -and I were so happy together. Here is the little shelf where she kept -her Latin and Greek books."</p> - -<p>"My good gracious, you didn't teach her the dead languages?" said -Fergus.</p> - -<p>"I did, for certain. She was the aptest little pupil you could find in -your march through life."</p> - -<p>"I'll have her taught fine," said Fergus, "but you are a good—very -good man, Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"Don't say that again," replied Mansfield. "The heart knoweth its own -wickedness and its own <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>sorrows. I can't explain what I feel and if I -could, I wouldn't. I'll be ready to accompany you this very evening, -Mr. Desmond."</p> - -<p>"Fergus Desmond, please," said the future heir to The Desmond.</p> - -<p>Mansfield left the room. Fergus looked round the shabby little -study. He took up the Latin and Greek books and a sense of amazement -possessed him. If it had not been for his old father he would not have -gone on with this thing. He felt he had never seen a man like John -Mansfield before. Fergus thought a good deal of rank and old family, -but Mansfield was above all that kind of thing. He was higher up. He -had, in fact, reached the soul heights, where earthly rank counts for -nothing.</p> - -<p>By-and-bye he came back, the colour in his cheeks and a sparkle in his -eyes.</p> - -<p>"I have news for you, Fergus," he said, "sudden, unexpected. Priscilla -has come home."</p> - -<p>"My goodness," said Fergus, "we all vowed that we would never speak to -her again."</p> - -<p>"Because she married me?" said Mansfield, with a sort of angelic smile.</p> - -<p>"Yes, we were fools. I should like to see my sister, and I tell you -honestly, Mansfield, that I think she has got the best of the bargain."</p> - -<p>"But there is one thing I must add," continued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> Mansfield. "I cannot go -with you to France to-night. I cannot desert my wife on her unexpected -return."</p> - -<p>There was a loud, harsh voice heard in the hall.</p> - -<p>"Maggie, Maggie, where are you, Marguerite?"</p> - -<p>Mansfield hurriedly left the study; his firm, refined face assumed -a somewhat slight and delicate flush; he drew himself up to his -slender height, a half-suppressed sigh rose to his lips and then he -disappeared. Fergus Desmond heard him murmur to himself,</p> - -<p>"She's a good woman, yes, she's a good woman, and I—I have deceived -her," but whether Mrs. Mansfield was good or bad, nothing could exceed -her wild rage and anger when she encountered her husband in the little -narrow hall and when he told her, which he did firmly and gently, that -he had sent little Margot to visit her relations in Ireland.</p> - -<p>"I didn't act fair by you, Priscilla," he said, "and I'm more than -willing to own it, but the child pined to see her own people, and I—I, -yes, I let her go."</p> - -<p>"The little brat," said Mrs. Mansfield, "and pray what money did you -give her? She couldn't cross the briny with nothing in her pocket."</p> - -<p>"She didn't have a penny of yours, Priscilla; but wait, whist, I have -something to say...." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> - -<p>Whatever that something may have been, it was interrupted in a most -startling and unpleasant manner, for Fergus Desmond also opened the -door of the little study and stood in the hall. He was exactly three -years younger than Priscilla, and Priscilla could not mistake him -for a moment. She disliked all her family, but perhaps she disliked -Fergus the most, for Fergus would never give in to her or submit to her -scoldings, and even the lively Norah and the old young Bridget found -their brother a rock of defense on the occasions when Priscilla rounded -on them.</p> - -<p>"I've come, Prissy," he said, not offering to kiss her or even to take -her hand. "I see you are exactly the same as ever. I pity from the -bottom of my heart the good man you have made your husband."</p> - -<p>"You pity the son of a farmer for having married a Desmond of -Desmondstown," almost hissed the good lady.</p> - -<p>"I pity the man you have married—I care nothing about his ancestry. -He's got a good bit of property I'm thinking in a <i>more enduring -country than this</i>. But now, about the child. I came over on purpose to -speak to you and John about her. My father, The Desmond, wants to keep -her and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> from what I can see of you, Prissy, you'll be glad to be rid -of her."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Mansfield was at first so much startled at seeing her brother that -she could find no words to reply, but now they came in what in Ireland -might be called not only a flow but a rapid torrent.</p> - -<p>"Ah, to be sure," she said, "that's a nice thing to come and say and -do. I took the child when she was too small for anyone else to think -about her. I took her and cared for her and nursed her and trained her -and sat up with her at night when she had the whooping-cough and the -measles, and now that she is a strong colleen you want to take her from -me. All I can tell you is this, Fergus, you don't get her, so there! -She can be of use to me now," repeated Mrs. Mansfield, "and I won't -give her up. That's my answer. You can go, Fergus. There is nothing -more to be said."</p> - -<p>"But there is something more to be said, good wife," said John -Mansfield. "I have given in—I, who love the little creature as though -she were my own."</p> - -<p>"Oh, do stop your foolery, John," said Mrs. Mansfield. "Who cares -whether you love her or not? It's the plague of my life the way you go -on about her." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I can't help loving her, dear, no more than you can help—help hating -her."</p> - -<p>"Who said I hated her? That's a nice thing to repeat to my brother."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, give her up, Priscilla."</p> - -<p>"I won't, unless I'm paid," said Priscilla. "She's a perfect torment of -a child and I never did think when I went away to visit my sick friend -that I should be treated in so mean and so deceitful a manner. I won't -give her up unless I'm paid," screamed Priscilla. "How much are you -prepared to offer me for her, Fergus?"</p> - -<p>"I'll give you fifteen pounds, Priscilla. I'll send it to you from -Desmondstown, but first of all this good fellow and I must go and see -the child's French relations."</p> - -<p>"Oh you must, indeed, must you? A fine fuss you are making—a fine hue -and cry about a beggar's brat, whom nobody took any notice of at all -until the last week or so."</p> - -<p>"Come along now, ma'am, and sup up your tea," said Hannah, who just -then added her own goodly proportions to the group in the hall. "I -have a beautiful egg boiled as light as anything for you and new laid -as though it had dropped out of the nest, and a little bit of curled -up bacon. Master,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> you take the gentleman into the study and I'll see -after Mrs. Mansfield."</p> - -<p>Now if there was one person in the world whom Mrs. Mansfield both -respected and <i>feared</i> it was her old-fashioned servant, Hannah. Hannah -had lived with her ever since her marriage, solely and entirely first -on account of Mr. Mansfield, and then because of the sweet brown-eyed -baby. She hated the woman for herself, but she would have done more -than put up with her for the sake of that good man, John Mansfield, -and for the sake of the bit girleen. She was a Yorkshire woman, firm -and determined. She kept the house very clean, she allowed no waste -anywhere and in some extraordinary way she managed to rule Priscilla -Desmond that was. She ruled her by being outspoken and by letting this -Irishwoman see what she really was.</p> - -<p>"Here's your supper, ma'am," she said. "You'd better sit down -quiet-like and eat it."</p> - -<p>"Hannah, I've been treated shameful—shameful."</p> - -<p>Hannah put her arms akimbo and stared fixedly at her mistress.</p> - -<p>"I can't see for the life of me where the 'shameful' comes in," she -said, "and whatever made ye come back a week or more before ye were -wanted. Wasn't the master and me in the thick of housecleaning when you -come bally-ragging us?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I couldn't help it, Hannah. My friend got a bad attack of pleurisy, -and you know I can never stand <i>serious</i> illness—it's more than I've -nerve for."</p> - -<p>"Oh you are not lacking in nerve, ma'am. When you told all those -lies about sitting up with the child that time she had measles and -whooping-cough. It wasn't <i>you</i> that sat up, bless your heart, it was -the master and me. There's no sense in what I calls <i>useless</i> lies, -and them was useless. The master knew it, and he give one of those -quick little sighs of his that cut me to the very bone, back behint the -heart, and, what's more, that fine gentleman from Ireland knew it—I -saw it in his face. You are perjuring yourself more every day, Mrs. -Mansfield, and you'd best step easy and go more cautious if you want -ever to get to Heaven. There, now, you are crying—that'll do you good. -This tea is prime. I bought it at Dawson's out of my own wages this -morning, and this little curly crisp bit of bacon with the new-laid egg -will hearten you up. Eat and drink, ma'am, and be decent to your good -husband and, for the Lord's sake, let the child go where she will be -loved. There is no one loves her in this house but the master and me. -There, to be sure, haven't I got in a girl who is trying to <i>smooth</i> -her work? I must get at her to see that she <i>bottoms</i> it properly. Take -your tea and eat your egg and think on your sins. That's all I have got -to say to <i>you</i>."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VI.</span> <span class="smaller">M. LE COMTE.</span></h2> - -<p>Hannah had certainly managed to say a good deal in this short but -pungent lecture, and the immediate consequence was that Mrs. Mansfield -was comparatively reasonable when her husband and Fergus saw her next. -She confessed that children were a nuisance and if Fergus gave her -twenty pounds she wouldn't mind parting with the child.</p> - -<p>"It can't he done," said Mansfield firmly.</p> - -<p>"Whatever do you mean by that, John Mansfield?"</p> - -<p>"Exactly what I say, dear love. The little one has been the joy and -blessing of my life. I can never express to this good brother of yours -what little Margot has been to me and if I give her up at all, I give -her up from a sense of duty, but I won't allow you to receive money for -her."</p> - -<p>"And right you are, sir, right you are," said Hannah, who came into the -room at that moment. "The missus wouldn't touch a brass farthing for -the kiddy when she gets over the kind of shock of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> seeing that fine man -her brother. I'll manage her, master dear, you needn't trouble your -head."</p> - -<p>It so happened that Hannah had her way. She did manage Mrs. Mansfield -and, what was more, she got everything in order for her master and -Fergus Desmond to start for their expedition to Arles, not that night -but on the following morning. How neither of these good gentlemen -knew a word of the French tongue, but they did discover by the aid -of atlases, etc., the direction in which Arles was situated and they -started off on their quest for little Margot's French relations at an -early hour the next day.</p> - -<p>They arrived at Arles on the following evening and, after making -enquiries by means of one of Cook's interpreters, they discovered the -Château St. Juste. Arles is a lively and busy place and more than one -person watched the singular pair as they passed down an avenue of -plane-trees and by-and-bye came to some heavy iron gates, which the -said interpreter informed them opened on to the avenue, and eventually -led to the Château St. Juste. The interpreter then felt that he had -done his duty.</p> - -<p>Fergus paid him twenty francs and a sprightly little woman, quite young -and very lively, came out of a small and daintily furnished lodge to -greet them.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but you are Anglais," she said, "it goes without saying. I -will take you down to the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>château if messieurs so desire. Monsieur -<i>mon mari</i> is ill, but it matters not—he can talk the English—ah, -<i>charmant</i>! He has fallen ill of the accursed <i>grippe</i>, but I nurse -him well and he will soon be restored. Come, then, my good messieurs, -come for yourselves and see le Comte St. Juste. I am his wife, it -goes without saying. He is old and I am young, that also goes without -saying. Follow me, messieurs, you will be rewarded when you see all -that I have done for the castle. It was in ruins—ah! but I had my -<i>dot, chers</i> messieurs. I made my money by means of the <i>chapeaux</i> -and the <i>très chic</i> garments for the different <i>fêtes</i> which abound -at Arles. Ah, but I made my pile—my pile, and the Comte he worships -me, and I myself am <i>la Comtesse</i>. Think you not it was well done, -and think you I am ashamed of how I made my <i>dot</i>? Ah, <i>mais non, -mais non</i>! The beautiful hats are made for the beautiful youth, the -beautiful robes, <i>très distinguées très comme il faut</i>, are also made -for the young and lovely, but see! I get my price, the true price—one -hundred and fifty francs for one little <i>chapeau</i>, one thousand francs -for a robe which might be distinguished in any part of Paris. Ah, think -not of it any more. It is over. I am Madame la Comtesse and Monsieur is -le Comte and I put the place—ah, into its bridal dress. See! behold! -Not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> a weed, not an entanglement—all of the most spotless. Think what -the place was! One raises the eyebrow at the thought, and behold it -now! Monsieur the Comte, he is that eaten up with <i>joie</i> that he can -scarcely contain himself. Ah, messieurs, have I not done well?"</p> - -<p>"You have done very well," said John Mansfield.</p> - -<p>The little French lady turned towards him and gave him a sparkling nod.</p> - -<p>"You come from the cold <i>Angleterre</i>?" she enquired.</p> - -<p>"I live in England and I love that country very dearly," said John -Mansfield.</p> - -<p>"Ah, and you, monsieur?" the black eyes fixed themselves on the eyes -which were almost as black as Fergus Desmond's.</p> - -<p>"I come from Ireland," he said. "I have come on a matter of great -importance; I wish to speak to your husband, madame."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>certainement, certainement</i>. Oh, la! la! you shall have your way. -But Ireland—Ireland, have you not a name, monsieur?"</p> - -<p>"My name is Desmond of Desmondstown," said Fergus in his slow, grave -voice.</p> - -<p>The little madame gave a sort of bounce in the air.</p> - -<p>"Then the day of greatest joy has arrived," she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> said. "My poor -husband, he frets day and night, oh, but he has no reason. He is not -ravished as he ought to be with all those good things that I have -provided him with. His son, his only son, married! Ah, but it was a -Paul and Virginia affair. He married a young Irish lady of beauty the -most superb. I know it, for she came here and <i>I</i> sold her a <i>chapeau</i> -and a <i>robe</i>. Ah, but you are like her, monsieur—you of Ireland, I -mean."</p> - -<p>"I am her brother," said Fergus.</p> - -<p>"Did I not say it was a day of joy," exclaimed the little Comtesse. -"Well, she was beautiful and they loved her all of them, but the -Comte, my good husband, he was harassed much because there was not the -customary <i>dot</i>, and he made the young m'sieur Henri, the husband of -the beautiful madame, angry with bitter words and the young m'sieur he -took, yes, he took his wife away. She was like a star for loveliness -and then we heard that she had died, and shortly afterwards we got the -information that the romantic ideas of <i>mon pauvre mari</i> were never to -be fulfilled, for the young Comte died also somewhere in that bitter -<i>Angleterre</i> and we lost sight of the good babe that had been put into -his hands by his young lovely wife before she departed to <i>le bon -Dieu</i>. Ah, but those were sad times! This is the house, messieurs, now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -we will enter, and I will tell M'sieur le Comte that you have arrived."</p> - -<p>The two men were left staring at each other. The château was in truly -French style, and although it looked perfectly neat and tidy lacked the -air of comfort which John Mansfield's little home possessed, and which -was even to be seen in Desmondstown.</p> - -<p>After a very short interval Madame appeared again on the scene.</p> - -<p>"<i>Alors, je vais vous présenter à l'instant.</i> Follow me, I beg. Rest -you here, M'sieur." She pointed to a little lounge in a gaily decorated -drawing-room, "and I will take M'sieur, the Irish gentleman, to see my -husband. I will bring you <i>l'eau sucrée, tout-de-suite</i>. Now follow me, -M'sieur from Ireland."</p> - -<p>Fergus Desmond gave his friend a glance of dismay.</p> - -<p>"Be sure that all will be well," murmured the Rev. John Mansfield. -There was a sort of intense encouragement in the words, and, holding -his head very erect and pushing back his fine square shoulders, Fergus -followed Madame la Comtesse into a peculiarly arranged <i>salon</i>, which -was half a bedroom, half a sitting-room.</p> - -<p>On a sofa, supported by many pillows, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>covered by a thick crimson -plush rug, lay a thin, very old, very worn man. He had all the -inimitable grace of his nation, and would have sprung to his feet to -put his heels and knees together, and make the necessary bow if Madame -had not interrupted him.</p> - -<p>"Alphonse, thou naughty one, thou must not rise," she exclaimed. "Rest -at thine ease on thy cushions of down, and I will talk to the stranger -with the good face in the other room. M'sieur Desmond will divert thee, -my little Comte." Here she pressed a light kiss on his forehead and -danced out of the room.</p> - -<p>The first thing that Fergus felt when he found himself quite alone with -the Comte St. Juste was the extraordinary likeness the old man bore to -little Margot. It is true that it was a likeness between extreme youth -and extreme age. Nevertheless, it was there. The shape of the face, -the aristocratic poise of the head were repeated in the old man and -the young child. There was a flush of childish pleasure now on the old -Comte's cheeks. He spoke in a hurried voice,</p> - -<p>"Behold! are you indeed a Desmond?"</p> - -<p>"Undoubtedly. I am the eldest son of The Desmond of Desmondstown and in -our country 'The' is the proudest of all titles." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> - -<p>"All, ah," said the Comte, "I know it not, I know it not. But see—I -speak the English tongue. You doubtless bring me information. I have -been long, long pining for my grandchild. Do you know whether the -little one born to my Henri was son or daughter? All in vain have I -made enquiries, but I have dreamt of that little one, by day and by -night. Have you brought me news of her—of him?"</p> - -<p>Fergus felt his heart sink within him.</p> - -<p>"There is a child," he said, "a daughter. She is not so very young -now—she will be twelve in ten months. She is beautiful. She came to us -of her own accord and The Desmond wants to keep her."</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais non, non</i>," exclaimed the old Comte. "Is she not the child -of my son, my only son? And if she is eleven, she will ere long be -marriageable. Ho, sir, no, M'sieur Desmond, I will <i>not</i> give her up."</p> - -<p>"I thought, sir, we might <i>pay</i> you," began Desmond, who was not very -tactful, and longed beyond words to have the clergyman by his side.</p> - -<p>The old Comte moved restlessly. He coughed also; he waved his hot -hands. At that instant Madame la Comtesse entered, accompanied by the -Rev. John Mansfield.</p> - -<p>"I have been hearing the story, the romance," she said. "Ah, but it is -of the most romantic. See! I deliver myself. <i>Écoutez.</i> These are my -words: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The little Comtesse, for by the French usages she is also a Comtesse, -belongs to <i>us</i>, M'sieur Desmond. But we do not wish to be unfair. This -is what I propose. Ah, mon Alphonse, I adore thee, yes, hopelessly, -incurably, I adore thee to the folly. Sip this iced lemonade, my -adoring love, and then listen to the words of a French Comtesse, who -knows how exactly to make the words come right, to make the thoughts -come quickly, to put the ideas straight. The little one, it seems, -belongs both to thee, my adorable Alphonse, and also to the father of -this good gentleman from Ireland. Let's divide her, therefore. We have -her half the time, and the good Desmond the other half the time, and I -begin immediately to make her <i>dot</i>. See, my beloved one, see! Is it -not sense? The two grandpapas shake hands over the head of the little -one."</p> - -<p>"It seems to me the best idea of all," said the Rev. John Mansfield. -Now this man had a wonderfully sweet voice, but while he uttered -these words, his heart was like lead within him, for while the two -grandfathers claimed the possession of little Margot, she was to him -the life of life. She was to him the joy of all joy, but not for the -world would he interfere with what he knew was right. He thought of a -home no longer joyful, blessed, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>cheerful, merry, and then he pushed -that thought out of sight. He was here to mediate, to arrange.</p> - -<p>The old Comte gave an impatient sigh.</p> - -<p>"I tell thee what it is, my good Ninon," he said. "I have not the -secret of eternal youth. I must have my little one soon—at once—or -behold I die. These limbs grow cold, this heart ceases to beat. M'sieur -Desmond, I will have her now—at once—for three months, then your -father of the title so high and proud can have her for three months. Is -that not fair, will not that suffice?"</p> - -<p>"It is fair and it must suffice," said Fergus.</p> - -<p>"Then go, my good M'sieur. Go quickly, I entreat, and return with -the <i>bébé</i> to her French home. Will you not go? It will be good for -<i>l'enfant</i>, the little Comtesse St. Juste. But hold for one moment, the -heart and the head get hopelessly mixed. What <i>dot</i> can we settle on -her, Ninon, <i>ma petite</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Fifteen hundred thousand francs," replied Ninon without a moment's -hesitation, "and when Monsieur the Irishman brings the little Comtesse -here, we will have a notary present to sign the agreement, so that on -her marriage day she shall be much looked up to, and I myself will -arrange the marriage according to the true French style."</p> - -<p>"We do not want any <i>dot</i> at all," began Fergus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> in an angry voice, but -John Mansfield rose and interrupted him.</p> - -<p>"We will go home at once and fetch the little one so that you may have -three months' joy in her society, M'sieur le Comte," he said. "At the -end of that time, I will myself fetch her to spend three months with -her Irish grandfather."</p> - -<p>"That is well," said the Comte; "that is as it ought to be."</p> - -<p>"How soon then may we expect the little Comtesse Margot?" said the -present Comtesse St. Juste.</p> - -<p>"Within a week from now," said Fergus firmly.</p> - -<p>"Ah, then, I must be preparing her little wardrobe. Think of that, my -adorable Alphonse. The wardrobe of thy little Comtesse. Of what height -is she, M'sieur Desmond, and of what breadth and of what colour? My -taste is of the rarest. Come with me for one moment all alone, M'sieur -Mansfield; you have seen most of her and can describe her best."</p> - -<p>She ushered Mr. Mansfield into the <i>salon</i>, which adjoined that of the -old Comte.</p> - -<p>Mansfield found great difficulty in describing his little angel and -Madame did not fail to notice that in spite of every endeavour the -tears trembled to his eyes, although on no account would he allow them -to fall.</p> - -<p>"Oh, la, la! she is beautiful," exclaimed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> Comtesse, when his -description had come to an end. "Monsieur Englishman you are good. -On that point rest assured. You have the distinction of bearing. I -note it. I would that you could talk with our parish priest. You live -among the high and holy things, M'sieur. Now, then, I have a little -secret to impart, I would not tell it to another, but to you, yes, -you have the air—the eye so clear and frank. Now, Monsieur, when I -married the Comte, he was great with the notion that I, his little -Ninon, had given up all the chapeaux and the robes that brought in the -money—the francs so numerous that I could make the old place look -like it did so long ago, but I did <i>not</i> give up my <i>établissement</i>, -m'sieur. Mon Dieu! I could not—I could not live without my gifts—I -could not live without my silks and my satins, my lace, all real, I -assure you; my opera cloaks, my tortoise-shell ostrich feather fans. -No, no, I keep my <i>magasin</i> going, so that I can give a good <i>dot</i> to -the little Comtesse, and the old man he knows nothing about it. He must -never—never know—must my adorable Alphonse."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VII.</span> <span class="smaller">THE LITTLE COMTESSE.</span></h2> - -<p>Margot's last day had dawned at Desmondstown. On the following morning -she must leave grand-dad and Madam and young old Aunt Eileen and young -old Aunt Norah and young old Aunt Bridget. She must also say good-bye -to the boys, to Bruce and Malachi, and she was fully determined somehow -or other to manage to give a last good-bye to Phinias Maloney and his -wife Annie, and the baby who was so truly young.</p> - -<p>Little Margot felt very sad at the thought of going away, and she -nestled more snugly than ever into her grandfather's arms and looked up -into his stern old face and kissed him on his brown cheek.</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i100.jpg" id="i100.jpg"></a><img src="images/i100.jpg" alt="She nestled more snugly" /></div> - -<p class="bold">She nestled more snugly than ever into her grandfather's<br /> -arms.—<a href="#Page_100"><i>Page 100.</i></a></p> - -<p>"Grand-dad," she said, "how much do you love me now?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, worra, then, pushkeen, I'm thinking I love you better than all the -rest of the wide world."</p> - -<p>"Oh, grand-dad," said Margot, with a sort of gasp, "then you love -me better than all the old-youngs. It is wonderfully noble of you, -grand-dad.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> You are a holy man—you are as holy, I'm thinking, as my -uncle, John Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"Drat John Mansfield!" exclaimed The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"You mustn't say 'drat', grand-dad," said Margot, "more particular when -you speak of a real holy man. Oh, grand-dad," she continued with a -little burst of pain, "I don't <i>want</i> to leave you, I don't."</p> - -<p>"You won't, pushkeen, you won't—keep your mind easy."</p> - -<p>"But I'm going to-morrow," said Margot. "You can't keep me, for I took -a vow. We of Desmondstown don't break vows, do we, grand-dad?"</p> - -<p>"You're staying along of me, vow or no vow," said the old man, clasping -her tighter than ever to his breast.</p> - -<p>It was just at this moment that a commotion was heard in the hall. -Young old Aunt Norah was heard to utter her celebrated "whoop." People -began to run and to exclaim and the next moment, Fergus Desmond and -John Mansfield entered the room side by side.</p> - -<p>Margot, although she was intensely happy at Desmondstown, had missed -Fergus a good deal and could not understand why her beautiful, -extraordinary horse had deserted her, but now she had only time to give -him a nod and a smile and then she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> rushed forward and was clasped -in Uncle Jacko's arms. She kissed him over and over and over. Her -beautiful eyes grew wet with tears. She turned after a minute and -brought him up to her grandfather.</p> - -<p>"Here's himself, grand-dad, here's the holy man himself."</p> - -<p>Madam had all this time been seated quietly in a corner. She was doing -some of the celebrated Irish crochet, which brought in a trifle of -money towards the expenses of the place. She glanced now at her son and -her son gave her a look which she understood. She went straight up to -little Margot.</p> - -<p>"You and me, we'll go into the kitchen," she said, "and see about your -uncle's tea. Come, <i>acushla machree</i>." She took one of Margot's little -hands in one of her own, still small and fine and dainty, and the child -without a struggle, but with extreme unwillingness, left the room.</p> - -<p>The moment the three men were alone together, The Desmond stood up to -his great height.</p> - -<p>"I'm obliged to you, John Mansfield," he said, "for looking after my -granddaughter. You have acted in a very fair way towards her, I'm -thinking; but I want her now for the remainder of my days. You are -willing to give her up, eh, John Mansfield?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I must give her up," said Mansfield. "I have no say in the matter, -alas! She is all the world to me, but I can't keep her against her will -and against what is holy and right."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk to me of holiness, Mansfield," interrupted The Desmond. -"What's settled about my granddaughter? Sit down, man, if you must, you -look a bit white and shaky."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps, Mansfield, you had best let me speak," said Fergus. "He has -had a very hard time, has Mansfield, father, and has behaved like a -perfect saint. I'll tell the story and he'll listen and you'll have to -agree, for there's no other way out."</p> - -<p>"Ah, to be sure, Fergus, you always had the tongue," said The Desmond. -"It was havin' ye trained at old Trinity. Well, go ahead, what's -settled?"</p> - -<p>"You know, of course, that my sister Priscilla married John Mansfield."</p> - -<p>"Married John Mansfield," repeated the old man, "one of the Desmonds -married <i>you</i>?"</p> - -<p>"She did, sir, and she's a good woman. She's real aunt to little -Margot."</p> - -<p>"I call her a scourge," said The Desmond. "She never did anything that -anyone else did. She was the torment of my life. But still for her to -demean herself by marrying Farmer Mansfield's son!" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He's better than she is, father, ten thousand times better," -interrupted Fergus. "Don't you turn on him. He's gone through enough. -The little one would not be alive now but for his care. Prissy's the -same as ever, only a trifle more bitter. She claimed money for the -child——"</p> - -<p>"Which isn't to be heard of, or thought of," said Mansfield, "but she's -a good woman—I won't allow anything else to be said about her."</p> - -<p>"Well, let her keep her goodness, but let her keep away from us," -said The Desmond. "I'm obliged to you, Mansfield. You have reared up -that pretty bit thing and now she is ours, thank the Almighty. I wish -I could pay <i>you</i>, not Prissy, but I haven't got it, Mansfield. I'm -a poor man, bitter poor, but Fergus, who will be The Desmond, will -see after the bit colleen when I am took. I can rest easy in my bed -to-night thinking that she's in the same house, the pretty, sweet lamb. -And she loves me, too, for that matter, Mansfield. Strange as it is to -relate, she is wonderful took up with the old grand-dad."</p> - -<p>"Father, you must let me finish my story," said Fergus. "Things are not -as smooth as you think."</p> - -<p>"What—why? What do you mean? Who dares to interfere between me and -mine? I'll have him ducked in the horse-pond, that I will." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Father, you must take things easy," said Fergus. "You can't duck him -in the horse-pond, for he's too far away."</p> - -<p>"Why, he's here, close by. I could lay me hand on him if I'd a mind," -said The Desmond. "Bedad, and I will, too, if I'm further roused. He's -coming holiness over me when he's an out-and-out scoundrel."</p> - -<p>"If you mean John Mansfield, father, he's the best man I know," said -Fergus. "He's put up with Prissy and that's enough. Anyone who can do -that must have the spirit of the Lord in him, say I."</p> - -<p>"She's a good woman," murmured Mansfield. He turned his head a little -aside. This interview was trying him inexpressibly.</p> - -<p>"Now father, you listen," said Fergus. "Mansfield is the best of the -best, and he'll give up the child whom he loved and reared and taught -all she knows, for that matter. He'll give her up without asking a -penny piece."</p> - -<p>"I will so," said Mansfield, "it is the will of the Almighty."</p> - -<p>"Then whyever are ye trying to frighten me?" said The Desmond, sinking -back into his big grandfather chair.</p> - -<p>"It is because of this," said Fergus, "things are fairly smooth, but -not as smooth as you think.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> Mansfield has nothing to do with it, -so, for the Lord's sake, don't you turn on him. You forget that our -Kathleen married a French nobleman."</p> - -<p>"A Frenchy!" exclaimed The Desmond. "I hate the whole lot of 'em."</p> - -<p>"Well, hate them or not, father, you have got to put up with the fact -that the child has got two grandfathers; you are one, and the Comte -St. Juste of the château near Arles is the other. This good fellow and -I had an interview with the Comte and it seems he has been all these -years searching and searching for the child of his only son, who died. -He didn't even know whether it was a boy or girl, but he knew there was -a child and he couldn't find it. Well, we brought him the tidings and -luckily for us he speaks English, and so does Madame la Comtesse, his -young second wife. He's reasonable enough and he promises a big 'dot' -to the little one."</p> - -<p>"A dot! What's a dot?" cried The Desmond. "A full stop I suppose you -mean, we don't want a full stop."</p> - -<p>"No, father, it's the French for a dowry. It means a lot of money. He -wanted to have the child altogether, but when we spoke to him, he was -amenable to reason. He will give her a lot of money—I can't tell you -the exact sum, but with what he can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> give and what we can give, the -little one will be well off—very well off—only the condition is this: -She is to spend half her time with him and half her time with you. He's -very old—very much more feeble than you are, father, and he wants -Mansfield and me to bring her over to the château near Arles at once. -She is to stay there three months and then you shall have her for three -months. It's reasonable and I've promised, and it must be done."</p> - -<p>"You say he is older than me," said The Desmond, "and a Frenchy, too, -bedad. Look at me, do I look young now?"</p> - -<p>"No, you have got a bit of a disappointment, but she will be back with -you in three months."</p> - -<p>The Desmond turned his head aside and it was only Mansfield who noticed -his shaking hands.</p> - -<p>"My little bit, my little own," he murmured, "my pushkeen, my little -own."</p> - -<p>Mansfield got up very softly and left the room. In a few minutes he -returned with some hot whisky and water, which he gave the old man.</p> - -<p>"You must take it, sir," he said. "You are shook up, the same as I am, -but she'll be back with you soon, for I'll bring her to you myself."</p> - -<p>There was a great excitement in the house when it was announced by -Fergus that Margot St. Juste, according to the French law, was a -Comtesse, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> that she was to go immediately, that very day, to her -French grandfather's château outside Arles.</p> - -<p>The place was in a kind of turmoil, but the old man did not appear. -Little Margot rushed in and clasped her arms round his neck.</p> - -<p>"Grand-dad, I won't go."</p> - -<p>"Ye must, pushkeen."</p> - -<p>"Grand-dad, is your heart a-breaking?"</p> - -<p>"Will you forget me when ye are away, <i>alanna</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Never—never—never! As long as you live and as long as I live. Uncle -John promises to bring me back to you faithful and true. And when he -comes may he stay for a couple of days?"</p> - -<p>"He may stay forever and ever, if he doesn't bring that wicked woman, -his wife. She married beneath her, but she's a scold, for all that."</p> - -<p>"I don't know what a scold is," said little Margot, "but I always said -she was a wicked woman. Grand-dad, she didn't marry beneath her, she -married far, far, far above her."</p> - -<p>"Yes, child, perhaps you are right. Let's see when you'll be coming -back to me, pushkeen."</p> - -<p>"This is the 5th of June," said little Margot.</p> - -<p>"June one, July two, August three," said the old man. "Ye'll be back -with me on the fifth of September." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I will that; I'll be mad to come back. You and Madam will keep -watching and waiting for me."</p> - -<p>"Don't you doubt it, <i>acushla</i>, don't you doubt it."</p> - -<p>"And you won't grow any older, grand-dad, for that would be quite too -terrible."</p> - -<p>"No fear of that," said The Desmond. "I'll keep up for your sake, -<i>acushla mavourneen</i>."</p> - -<p>"And I for yours," said little Margot. Then she kissed the old man, and -left Desmondstown.</p> - -<p>The little old trunk was packed and Malachi took it to the gate where -the same funny, springless little cart was waiting for it. Bruce and -Fergus and the three young old Miss Desmonds accompanied Margot to -the little cart. She rode on Fergus's shoulder up the avenue. It was -Malachi who lifted her into the cart. Phinias Maloney was there to -drive her to the station and Phinias Maloney's young wife and the baby -and the other children were all clustering round to bid the little -Comtesse good-day.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile in the beautiful and celebrated town of Arles in South France -great and intense excitement was going on, for Madame la Comtesse St. -Juste was making what she considered suitable preparations for the -arrival of her husband's granddaughter. She had from her own stores -supplied innumerable frocks in French style for the little one to wear. -Not only did she provide frocks, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> daintily frilled petticoats and -chapeaux of the very best, and open-work silk stockings and little -delicate kid shoes to match the frocks—in short, she had a complete -wardrobe suitable for the very small Comtesse, who was to be the future -delight of that adorable one, her Alphonse.</p> - -<p>The railway journey was very long and little Margot was tired. She -loved her Irish grandfather, but thought nothing at all about her -French one. She was troubled in her mind, too, at the thought of -parting with her beloved Uncle John.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Jacko, my Latin and Greek," she sobbed. They were getting very -close to Arles when she said this, and John Mansfield took her in his -big arms and kissed her over and over again, telling her that she must -be a very good little girl and that she was indeed lucky to have not -only one but two such loving grandparents.</p> - -<p>"I would much rather have only one," said little Margot. "I don't -understand the double. Why should there be a double, Uncle John? Why, -I'd even put up with——"</p> - -<p>"With what, <i>mavourneen</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Why, <i>herself</i>, the good woman, to be near <i>you</i>," said the child.</p> - -<p>"My darling, we must all fit ourselves for the position that Providence -assigns," remarked good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> John Mansfield, and then they reached the -great station and found themselves in the stately town, for Arles is -very south and very warm and exceedingly picturesque.</p> - -<p>Mansfield made enquiries and discovered that a carriage was waiting -for <i>la petite</i> Comtesse. Into this the little Margot stepped. John -Mansfield followed her. The ugly brown trunk was placed beside the -coachman, and they drove in the direction of the château, which was -quite a mile outside the town of Arles.</p> - -<p>They found Madame la Comtesse waiting to greet them. She wore a most -wonderful dress, which she considered according to her own ideas, <i>le -juste milieu</i>. On her head was a chapeau, which consisted mostly of -large violets. Her dress was pale green, with a <i>triste</i> little bow of -black just under the chin. She bounded down the steps and clasped <i>la -petite</i> Comtesse in her arms.</p> - -<p>"I am thy <i>belle</i> grand'mère," she said. "My pigeon, my little cabbage, -look at me, I am thy <i>belle</i> grand'mère in very truth."</p> - -<p>"But you are young," said Margot. "My Irish grandmother is beautiful -and old."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but never mind, little strange one, it cannot be helped. The Irish -grand'mère is old—the French grand'mère is young, <i>très bien</i>. Come -with me and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> I will introduce thee to thy grandpère—eh, but he has -got the years and well do they suit <i>mon</i> Alphonse. Thy grandpère is -adorable, my little cabbage."</p> - -<p>The French grandpère was certainly very different from the Irish -grandfather, and little Margot looked at him out of her soft black eyes -with a puzzled mingling of admiration and surprise.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but thou art indeed come, <i>mon enfant</i>!"</p> - -<p>The old Comte reclined just as of old, on his down pillows. He was -covered just as he was a week past with a soft crimson plush coverlet. -He looked anxiously out of his sunken black eyes into the soft black -eyes of <i>la petite</i> Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"Thou art here—thou art my own, thou wast born of my Henri. Kiss me, -little one, press thy rosy lips on mine."</p> - -<p>Little Margot did what she was told.</p> - -<p>"My grandfather of Ireland," she said, "is much bigger than you, -grandfather of France. You will not perhaps live very long."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but <i>mon enfant</i>, don't say anything so shocking. <i>Fi donc, -fi donc</i>," exclaimed the little Comtesse, bending over her beloved -Alphonse and kissing him passionately, then she turned to the child. -"<i>A la bonne heure</i>," she cried, "thou shalt have a <i>dot</i> that will -astonish thee, and the notary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> has come and he will make out the amount -that was promised M. Mansfield, of the English Church."</p> - -<p>"I wish to say one thing," remarked John Mansfield. "This is the sixth -of June, I will return for the child on the sixth of September, but -during that time I wish her to learn."</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, oui, m'sieur, certainement!</i> What would you wish <i>la petite</i> -Comtesse to acquire?"</p> - -<p>"Not Latin and not Greek," interrupted Margot. "My good uncle, the -holiest man in the world, teaches me those languages."</p> - -<p>"There is a school where I will send thee, <i>petite</i>. There thou shalt -acquire the French in all its perfection, and thou shalt learn the -dancing. Ah! bravo! everything shall be as it should he. Thou must -prepare for an excellent marriage, <i>ma chère petite</i> Comtesse."</p> - -<p>"What is a marriage?" asked Margot.</p> - -<p>"It is—ah, but thou must not know yet. Digest well my counsels. I -shall pray to <i>le bon Dieu</i> for the success of <i>votre mari</i>, that is to -be. M'sieur, you are a <i>religieux</i>?"</p> - -<p>"He is a holy man," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, oui, oui, mon enfant</i>—I know all that, but, nevertheless, I am -<i>tout à fait Français</i> and I love the French the best of all people in -the world." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And I love the English and the Irish," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Ah well, wait a while, <i>ma pauvre chérie</i>. Thou wilt soon see for -thyself. When the marriage time comes on—then will happen the -rejoicing, and I can dress thee, ah well! I have thy little garments -already arranged, but the <i>avocat</i> is waiting. The <i>dot</i> must be -settled once and for all on this brilliant <i>petite</i> Comtesse, and then -M'sieur, you will tell those good people in Ireland and your own sacred -household what good has befallen <i>la petite</i>."</p> - -<p>"I like it not at all," said Margot to herself. She stood looking -disconsolately out of one of the windows and remembered The Desmond and -the old place gone to rack and ruin, and hated the idea of being left -alone with grand'mère and grandpère of the French nation.</p> - -<p>"It troubles me," she thought, "why did I ever leave my little home -with my beloved Jacko?"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VIII.</span> <span class="smaller">BROWN HATS AND FANS.</span></h2> - -<p>It is one of the astonishing and also one of the blessed things of life -that children of the age of Marguerite St. Juste quickly accommodate -themselves to circumstances. She was naturally a very brave little -girl, and she had a heart warmer than most, but there was a quiet -determination about her, that same determination which had won her way -into all the hearts of the good folks at Desmondstown, and this she -brought now to her aid.</p> - -<p>Her French grandpère was very nice, and she set to work to learn French -as quickly as she could, in order to be able to converse with him not -only in the English tongue but also in his own. The young new wife said -that <i>la petite</i> Comtesse was altogether of the most ravishing. The -old Comte said nothing at all, but he looked at <i>la petite</i> out of his -twinkling black eyes and tried hard to see her father in that bonny -little brown face—in those steadfast, deep, very dark eyes and in -those smiling coral lips, but although little Margot had the dark eyes -of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> father, very dark and very beautiful, she had what was better -for herself, the soul of her mother. It was because of that soul that -Kathleen Desmond had been so loved and because further she had happened -to impart that soul to her little child Margot, who was in consequence -more Irish than French.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless she must remain for three months with Madame la Comtesse -and with Monsieur le Comte, her grandpère.</p> - -<p>There was one relief, however, for her. She had little or no affection -for her French relations, but she did most truly adore the idea of -going to school at Arles and of learning something about French girls -in general.</p> - -<p>Madame la Comtesse had most solemnly promised dear Uncle Jacko to -send her to school and Marguerite waited impatiently for the day and -hour when she might commence her studies. The day and hour, however, -seemed to be a long way off. Each day as it came she was expected to -devote all her time to her grandpère and to make the old man laugh by -her funny attempts at the French language. Still there was no talk of -school. There was, however, a vast amount of talk of dress.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mon</i> grandpère" laughed until he could hardly stop laughing when -he saw Margot in her pretty French costumes. He chuckled when she -attempted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> to imitate his French and Madame kept on saying, "<i>Fi donc, -fi donc!</i> Ah! but thou mightst be a child of three and thirty to hear -thee talk. See, behold! How thou dost make thy grandpère laugh. Thou -dost do him much good. <i>Fi donc, petite</i> Comtesse, thou must not make -him laugh till he expires. Has he not already the liver too pronounced? -We must take care of him, <i>ma petite</i>. He wishes for thy company and -I—behold I have my château. <i>Tiens!</i> it comforts me not a little."</p> - -<p>Margot gazed with some amazement at her young grandmother.</p> - -<p>"Thou hast made a promise, <i>ma</i> grand'mère," she exclaimed. "The days -fly and you do not fulfil it—you do not carry it out. See, behold, -Madame, it is of the most religious. You said it with those lips to the -holiest man in the world. Behold, Madame, there will come a curse on -thee if thou dost not carry it out."</p> - -<p>"<i>Non, non, non</i>," cried Madame, in great distress of mind. "Speak not -so cruelly, <i>ma petite</i> Comtesse. See, <i>mon enfant</i>, I love thee. Thou -shalt have another chapeau."</p> - -<p>"I don't want another chapeau," said Margot. "I'd like to go to school, -where the really young girls—not the old young girls—live. Thou didst -promise, Comtesse. Thou must keep thy word." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But thou dost give pleasure to the old man, thy grandpère. Think of -that, <i>ma petite</i>."</p> - -<p>"I will give him greater pleasure when I go to school," said Margot. "I -will bring him back day by day stories—ah, of the funniest. He will -laugh. Thou wilt see, Comtesse, how he will enjoy himself."</p> - -<p>"<i>Ma petite</i>, thou hast a wise head," said the Comtesse. "Thou shalt -have thy way. There is a school for the trimming of hats and for the -perfect education in the French tongue, by one Thérèse Marcelle. I will -take thee to her to-morrow morning."</p> - -<p>"But I don't want to learn to trim hats," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but it is a rare accomplishment, little one. Thou will learn it -and <i>peut-être</i> the piano also, and <i>peut-être</i> the French tongue in -all its perfection."</p> - -<p>"And are the girls at Thérèse Marcelle's old young, or only young?" -enquired Margot.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>ma petite bébé</i>, they are one and all of the youngest and the -gayest. See, I will take thee to-morrow. I am the last woman in the -world to break my word."</p> - -<p>Margot skipped away in her light and graceful manner and the next -morning she and the Comtesse St. Juste drove into Arles in one of the -very newest and best motor-cars of the time. They stopped <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>before a -large <i>magasin</i>, which looked to little Margot far more like a gorgeous -shop than a school. There were chapeaux innumerable displayed in -certain windows, there were all sorts of robes—robes of every sort and -description also to be seen.</p> - -<p>Madame entered smiling, holding the little hand of <i>la petite</i>. She was -greeted by smiles from every one in the shop. In fact, her entrance -seemed to bring a ray of sunshine with it. All the young women who were -walking about and attending to different customers were trying to catch -her eye in order to secure one of her much treasured smiles.</p> - -<p>Madame la Comtesse, however, knew her own mind and, motioning to Margot -to seat herself, entered into conversation of a very earnest and at -the same time spirited nature with a young woman who sat behind a sort -of raised counter. Margot was left to look around her. She was much, -indeed greatly, puzzled by what she saw. What could have happened—what -a very queer sort of school this was!</p> - -<p>Presently a number of ladies came in and Margot forgot her own -immediate interests in the excitement of watching them. They did not -look like English ladies nor did they look like French. One of them -was very large and very fat and red. She had a square figure planted -on large square feet and a firm jaw indicating a tenacity of purpose, -which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> the ill-natured might call pig-headedness. A young and very -pretty French girl came up and spoke to her.</p> - -<p>She said that she required a chapeau, condemning as she spoke the -entire style of Madame Marcelle's goods.</p> - -<p>"There is only one thing here that would suit me," she said. "See, -behold!" she pointed to a very small child's hat in a corner. It was -trimmed with small bunches of marguerites and violets. Her friend -expostulated with her but she did not take the least notice.</p> - -<p>"<i>J'aime beaucoup le chapeau là</i>," she said, pointing to the one of her -choice.</p> - -<p>"Ah," exclaimed the young French shop-girl. "<i>Le chapeau pour la bébé.</i> -It is nice, is it not? But now, we must find something Parisian for -Madame herself."</p> - -<p>Before Margot could quite get to the end of this exciting story and -find out which hat the red-faced, fat woman required, Madame la -Comtesse came to her side.</p> - -<p>"I have settled for thee, <i>ma petite</i>," she said. "Thou wilt come here -each morning and take lessons in the making of chapeaux, then, after -that is over, thou shalt have an hour in which to learn the French -tongue and half an hour to do the different<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> harmonies on the piano. -Then thou wilt return to my Alphonse. Thou wilt be a very happy <i>chère -petite</i>. See, I leave thee now under the care of Madame Marcelle."</p> - -<p>Margot did not know whether to laugh or cry. The Comtesse whisked -out of the shop amidst more nods and smiles and Madame came and took -Margot's little hand.</p> - -<p>"Behold," she said, "thou art of the <i>ancienne noblesse</i>. Now thou wilt -learn. I myself will instruct thee. Dost thou see that woman with the -red face?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," said Margot, "she is very ugly."</p> - -<p>"She wants to find a hat," said Madame, "which would only suit a -<i>bébé</i>. Now then, come. You and I we will go to her and show her what -is right. Thou must flatter her into buying a Parisian chapeau. She -would look absurd with her own ideas."</p> - -<p>"I thought this—this was a school," said poor little Margot, raising -her brown eyes and fixing them on Madame Marcelle.</p> - -<p>"So it is a school, <i>ma petite</i> Comtesse, and of the most wonderful, -the most <i>extraordinaire</i>. Ah, Madame la Comtesse is right to have you -taught. A little knowledge goes a long way when it is acquired as I -will teach it. Now, then, stand aside and listen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> You will soon learn. -I manage in this school of all schools the best. Come! Hold my hand."</p> - -<p>She brought the pretty child forward and stood right in front of the -red-faced lady.</p> - -<p>"You want a chapeau, Madame. Ah, <i>c'est drôle, ne c'est pas?</i> That is -for <i>la bébé</i>." She pointed with scorn at the tiny hat. "Here is one -for you. See, I am in the despair to oblige you, but behold I have the -very thing."</p> - -<p>Madame produced a hat from off its stand, covered with flowers, -butterflies and small feathers of different colours.</p> - -<p>"Behold for yourself, Madame! It came from Paris yesterday."</p> - -<p>"It is too showy. I like the little hat best," said Madame of the red -face.</p> - -<p>"Let me speak," suddenly interrupted little Margot. "Your face behold! -it is red and must be softened. You shall wear brown. See, I picture it -in my eye," continued Margot, speaking as though she had been acting -shop-woman all her days. "A brown hat <i>très doux</i> and one long feather -to match. Have you such a hat, Madame?" exclaimed little Margot.</p> - -<p>"It is wonderful the taste of the Comtesse," cried Madame. "She sees at -once what will suit you, <i>chère Madame</i>." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The Comtesse! That little girl a Comtesse!" cried the astonished -red-faced American lady.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui</i>, Madame. She is the young Comtesse St. Juste and her taste -it is of the most exquisite. Paris itself cannot touch her."</p> - -<p>"Why does she come here?" asked the American. "But get me the brown hat -with the brown feather. She looks like a child who has pretty taste."</p> - -<p>Little Margot stood very silent. She was not going to laugh. Having -given her idea she stuck to it. Her grave and lovely eyes were fixed on -the American's face. The brown hat was produced in a twinkling. It was -tried on. It was pronounced perfect.</p> - -<p>"I will have a fan to match," said the American.</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, oui, c'est bon</i>," said little Margot. "I will myself choose it -for you, Madame."</p> - -<p>She chose a fan made of brown feathers with a long tortoise-shell -handle.</p> - -<p>"Here, behold!" said little Margot.</p> - -<p>Immediately the other American ladies buzzed round the brown hat -and round the brown fan, and little Margot found herself acting as -shopwoman and enjoying herself immensely.</p> - -<p>"And now the price, Mademoiselle la Comtesse,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> said the red-faced -American, when all the ladies had been provided with hats and fans.</p> - -<p>"I know not," said Margot. "Madame, you will tell the price. For me, I -am <i>fatiguée</i>." She marched away, hearing however behind her a perfect -buzz of remonstrance.</p> - -<p>The prices were monstrous—they were absurd. They were beyond even -thinking about.</p> - -<p>Madame stood calmly by, holding a pile of hats with brown feathers in -her hand.</p> - -<p>"It is the will of <i>la petite</i> Comtesse," she remarked, and then again -she stood silent.</p> - -<p>By-and-bye the hustle grew so great, the noise so animated, that -Margot wondered how the whole thing would end and when these horrid, -disagreeable women would leave the shop. But after storm there came -peace. The brown hats and the brown fans hastily arranged themselves, -the money was paid, one hundred and fifty francs for each chapeau, and -one hundred and thirty francs for each fan.</p> - -<p>Madame danced up to Margot and kissed her several times.</p> - -<p>"We have made—we have made—oh, so much for your <i>dot</i>, little one," -she said. "You are the very best saleswoman I ever knew. What will our -sweet Madame la Comtesse say when we tell her!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> Six chapeaux at 150 -francs apiece, six fans at 130 francs apiece! Ah, but it is marvellous! -You have the natural gift, little one. Come with me now, into the -apartment, where we sell the robes of all sorts and colours. You will -make the fortune of this place, little Comtesse."</p> - -<p>"I will not go with you, Madame," cried little Margot. "This is not a -school—it is a shop. I want to learn my French. I demand that I learn -it. I will not again give counsel about hats for ugly women."</p> - -<p>"You will learn the tongue of the French so ravishing in those -apartments set aside for <i>les robes</i>," cried Madame. "Come, my little -Comtesse, you are a genius and must not throw away your gift."</p> - -<p>"I tell you I am <i>fatiguée</i>," cried Margot. "I will not enter a shop; -I will go to school. It is a vow taken. Where is my grand'mère? See, I -will do nothing more in your horrid shop."</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, ma pauvre petite</i>," cried the good-natured Madame. "<i>La petite</i>, -she is tired out and no wonder. Ah, <i>ma chérie</i> is it not for your own -<i>dot</i>? Now, come, listen. There is one playing in the other room. He -is playing those delicious songs of <i>Wagnère</i>. Courage, <i>mon enfant</i>. -You have done well and are tired. Ah, look at that robe in exquisite -satin, coloured as the oyster, and that single row of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> pearls round -the neck and that magnificent diamond star crowning the summit of <i>le -chevelure</i>! See the air it lends. Will you not help me to sell that -costume so ravishing, my little Comtesse?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Non, non</i>, I hate it all!" said Margot. "I will listen to the -music of <i>Wagnère</i> until my French mistress comes and then I will -return to M'sieur le Comte St. Juste, <i>mon</i> grandpère. Ah, but I am -miserable—miserable in a shop. What would The Desmond say if he saw -his pushkeen in a shop?"</p> - -<p>Madame saw that she had gone as far as she could with the little -Comtesse. She placed her where she could listen to the beautiful music -which delighted the child and soothed her troubled heart, and then a -young Frenchman entered the <i>appartement</i>, and with his knees and heels -tightly pressed together made a very low bow to the little Comtesse St. -Juste. He began talking to her in a lively manner in the French tongue, -correcting her mistakes and teaching her how to use the French language -properly.</p> - -<p>Margot was a wonderfully quick little pupil, but she sprang up with -delight when she saw the Comtesse enter.</p> - -<p>The Comtesse had an earnest conversation with Madame and approached -Margot, her black eyes full of smiles and her cheeks very bright. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ah, but thou art of the very best, <i>mon enfant</i>," she cried, and she -took the little Comtesse in her arms and kissed her before everyone in -the shop.</p> - -<p>The child and the woman got into the motor-car and drove off as quickly -as possible in the direction of the château.</p> - -<p>"Thou must never do that again, grand'mère," cried Margot.</p> - -<p>"Do what, <i>ma petite</i>, my cabbage, my pigeon?"</p> - -<p>"That was a shop, not a school. I desire to go to a school," said -Margot. "I will tell M'sieur le Comte, my French grandpère."</p> - -<p>"Thou wilt not, thou couldst not be so cruel," exclaimed her French -grandmother.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but I could and I would. I will not learn in a shop."</p> - -<p>"Then, however am I to get thee thy <i>dot</i>, <i>ma petite</i>?" cried -the Comtesse, "and thou hast a gift in that way—a gift the most -marvellous. Didst thou not sell six brown hats and six brown fans -to-day? Thou hast the true taste running in thy veins, <i>ma petite</i>."</p> - -<p>"But you don't want me to sell hats," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I do, I do. Thou hast the gift. Madame confirms it. Tell not thy -grandpère or he will rage—he would rage in the French fashion and -that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> might cause <i>la mort</i>. Ah, <i>ma petite</i>, thou wilt not injure thy -<i>pauvre</i> grandpère."</p> - -<p>"But I do not understand," cried little Margot.</p> - -<p>"I will put it clear to thee if thou wilt not tell thy grandpère."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I will not tell," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Thou must not tell, <i>ma petite</i>. The hats and fans thou didst sell -were mine and the money goes towards thy <i>dot</i>. Go to my most beautiful -<i>établissement</i> each day for one hour, for thou hast most truly the -gift of selling, and the title of the little Comtesse goes far. Then -I will call for thee and take thee to a school, a school for the -daughters of the <i>ancienne noblesse</i>. Wilt thou do this for thy <i>pauvre -belle</i> grand-mère and wilt thou keep it dark—very dark from thy -grandpère?"</p> - -<p>"But why—why must he not know?" asked little Margot.</p> - -<p>"Because, <i>ma petite</i>, when I met that most noble and ancient -gentleman, the château was going to ruin. He wanted the comfort but he -had not <i>l'argent</i>. I told him I had <i>le dot</i> and he married me. He -thinks I have given up the <i>établissement</i> where the chapeaux and the -robes are, but how could I give them up, <i>ma petite</i> Comtesse, when we -would have nothing to live on otherwise? See, thou hast the gift and -thou canst help me; one hour a day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> amongst my chapeaux, one hour a day -for <i>la petite</i> Comtesse to show her taste, and then I take thee to the -very best school in Arles."</p> - -<p>"Will you really, Comtesse?" asked Margot.</p> - -<p>"I will, really, my most beautiful, my most lovely <i>bébé</i>. Do not -embarrass thyself. All will be well. It is a bargain between us. No -word to the Comte, thy grandpère! He is too feeble and too proud. He -has the pride of all the St. Justes in his veins, but he lives in -comfort out of my <i>établissement</i>. Wilt thou not help me for one hour -or two hours a day, little Comtesse?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, if you keep your word about the school," said Margot. "I will not -otherwise, indeed I will not."</p> - -<p>"No fear, <i>ma petite</i>, my word is my bond."</p> - -<p>"But," said Margot, "when I get back now, what am I to say to -grandpère? How can I talk to him about the shop which is thy shop?"</p> - -<p>"Tell him thou didst go into an <i>établissement</i> with me, thy -grand'mère, and describe to him the American lady with the stout figure -and the red face. Tell him what she wanted and what thou didst suggest. -Ah, but he will laugh—he will roar."</p> - -<p>"I like Ireland better than France," said Margot solemnly, "but I -will do what thou dost wish on this one occasion, grand'mère, for -otherwise I could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> not live. To-morrow I will attend thy horrible shop -for one hour and one hour only, and then I will go to the school where -the young-young girls are and where I can be taught. See, thou hast -promised."</p> - -<p>"I have promised and I will fulfil," said her grand'mère. "The school -belongs to my friend, M'selle la Princesse de Fleury. Thou dost not -know how much thou wilt learn there. It is <i>chic</i> of the <i>chic</i>. Oh, -la! la! thou wilt enjoy thyself at the Princesse de Fleury's school."</p> - -<p>So little Margot entered the old château fairly satisfied. To be taught -by a Princess seemed a very high honour indeed, and she determined to -lose no time in picking up knowledge to delight Uncle Jacko and dear, -dear grand-dad, The Desmond.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IX.</span> <span class="smaller">THE ENGLISH GIRLS AT THE SCHOOL OF LA PRINCESSE.</span></h2> - -<p>Margot was the sort of girl who invariably and without any doubt kept -her word, but, being of that somewhat rare species, she expected those -about her to keep their words also. Accordingly Madame la Comtesse -was forced to send <i>la petite</i> Comtesse St. Juste to her friend <i>la</i> -Princesse de Fleury, having made arrangements beforehand with that good -woman, that the child should go to her every day for <i>déjeuner</i>. After -that she was to devote herself to the learning of French and that music -which charms even the savage breast.</p> - -<p>Little Margot was satisfied with this arrangement, and her grandfather, -M. le Comte, little guessed that she was not at school all day long, -but devoted the early hours of her day to selling hats innumerable for -Madame la Comtesse.</p> - -<p>Little Margot kept her word to the letter. She had a real taste for -millinery, acquired no one quite knew how, and it soon became the rage -in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span><i>établissement</i> that M'selle <i>la petite</i> Comtesse should serve -the customers, for had she not the taste <i>magnifique</i>! At school, too, -little Margot was perfectly happy. Her morning hours were hours of duty -rather than pleasure, but the rest of her days were full of pleasure. -She delighted beyond anything in acquiring knowledge, and very soon -discovered to her intense delight that there were several English girls -at the school of la Princesse de Fleury.</p> - -<p>There was, in particular, Lady Dorothy Duncan. She was living with a -French uncle at Arles and went every day to the school of la Princesse. -She was a fair, pretty, thoroughly English girl, and, although she was -quite three years older than the little Comtesse, she took to the child -with the dark bright eyes at once. The child, in her turn, took to Lady -Dorothy. She was allowed for the good of her manners, according to la -Princesse, to speak English with Lady Dorothy, and many beyond ordinary -words were the confidences that each young girl made to the other.</p> - -<p>Margot grew tall and graceful for her age; Dorothy was small and -very slim. Things went on well both at the school and at the -<i>établissement</i>, until one day Dorothy Duncan invited her most favoured -friend to lunch in the château of <i>mon oncle</i>.</p> - -<p>"Is it very, very French?" asked little Margot. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh, no, not any more than anything else here," said Dorothy. "You will -enjoy it and you must come. As for me, I am overcome with raptures. My -eldest sister—she is just seventeen—has come to us all the way from -Rome. She will soon he likely to meet someone whom she can marry. She -will be absorbed in getting her trousseau, partly from Paris and partly -from that great <i>établissement</i> here, kept by Madame Marcelle!" Margot -felt herself colouring slightly.</p> - -<p>"What is your sister like to look at, Dorothy?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Behold, understand!" exclaimed Dorothy, putting on all the French -manners she could acquire. "I think that some day I shall be beautiful -but not like Hébé. Hébé is almost as beautiful as you, <i>ma petite</i> -Comtesse, only of course she is very much older. They say that the -establishment of Ninon Lecoles cannot be beaten even in Paris, that -city of all the delights. She has sold it now to Madame Marcelle. Ah, -but my sister will make a grand marriage and <i>l'oncle</i> Gustave will -give her a <i>dot</i> worthy of her."</p> - -<p>"I am to have a <i>dot</i>, too," said little Margot, "but, behold, I care -not for it! It is—it is less than of no use at all. What I want is to -have my heart brimful of love." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Eh, but you are a darling," said Lady Dorothy. "I know you will love -my sister."</p> - -<p>"I am sure I shall," said little Margot. "Go on, describe her to me, -Dorothy."</p> - -<p>"We are very proud in England," began Dorothy, "very proud indeed. Ah, -but our pride is immense. It is like a mushroom, standing up higher -than our heads and the top of it covering us and shutting out the -world. Of all my sisters there is none so proud as Hébé, and <i>l'oncle</i> -Gustave says she will make a very great marriage indeed. She is like -me, but she has dark eyes, whereas mine are blue like bits of sky, -<i>n'est-ce pas</i>?"</p> - -<p>Margot made no reply.</p> - -<p>"When am I going to see your sister, Dorothy?"</p> - -<p>"Shall we arrange for to-morrow? You may perhaps see one of the many -<i>prétendants</i> to her hand. Not that she looks at them. Ah <i>non, non</i>. -She abides her time. There is one called Maurice de Croix. He is a -man of the world with an air superb and distinguished, but my sister, -she will not regard him. But there, I must not speak any more on such -matters. There is, <i>peut-être</i> one in England. I guess—but I dare not -say. You will come to-morrow, little Margot, straight from school and -be introduced to <i>ma belle soeur</i>."</p> - -<p>Margot gave a little sigh, said that she must ask<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> grandpère, and would -let her friend know the following day.</p> - -<p>Grandpère was highly pleased that his little cabbage should have tea in -the true French style with <i>le pauvre</i> Gustave.</p> - -<p>"He was once a very great man," said grandpère, "but he lived through -his fortune and now—now he subsists on his pride. It is a great -possession, the pride, <i>ma très belle</i> Margot, but it produces the -hunger. I took care to do otherwise. I married my Ninon and since then, -behold, I live in luxury, and can give thee a glorious <i>dot</i>, <i>ma -petite</i>!"</p> - -<p>While Margot and her grandfather were talking, Madame la Comtesse -entered the room. She was dressed in a pale shade of green with -quantities of sequins of the same colour arranged on the front of her -dress. Her little collar was of the best Honiton lace. Her dress was -short, coming barely to her ankles. She wore open-work silk stockings -of the same shade and little green kid shoes <i>en suite</i>. She looked -very charming and young, and no one could tell from her appearance what -her age could possibly be.</p> - -<p>She rushed up now to "<i>mon</i> Alphonse," arranged his down pillows, -settled his soft rug of crimson plush and said, "Ah, behold, art thou -not full of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> comfort, my adored one? And what has <i>la petite</i> been -saying to thee?"</p> - -<p>"Good news, my Ninon," replied grandpère. "Gustave, the present Marquis -de Serrègnon, wants this <i>bébé</i> to have tea with his nieces Hébé and -Dorothy to-morrow evening. Ah, but I fear the food will be poor, but -the Marquis is the Marquis, and we must not despise him. This little -Margot, this <i>chère petite</i>, loves dearly his English niece, Lady -Dorothy Duncan, but it is the sister whom Lady Dorothy wishes her to -meet."</p> - -<p>A cloud, very imperceptible, but undoubtedly there, swept over the face -of Madame la Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"All shall be as thou dost wish, my most adorable Alphonse," she -remarked, and she kissed the old man first on the hand, then on the -brow, then on each cheek and then, by an almost imperceptible wave of -her own small white hand, motioned Margot to follow her out of the room.</p> - -<p>"Answer me, and answer me truly, <i>mon enfant</i>," she said. "Hast thou -seen the Lady Hébé Duncan in my <i>établissement</i>? Hast thou perchance -served her, <i>ma petite</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I have seen her and I have served her," said Margot. "I helped her to -choose chapeaux yesterday."</p> - -<p>"Then she will know thee again when thou dost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> go to that place of -desolation where le Marquis de Serrègnon lives."</p> - -<p>"Yes, <i>ma</i> grand'mère," replied Margot, looking full into the face of -the little shop-keeper.</p> - -<p>"And yet thou must go," said Madame. "It would offend thy grandpère -else. It does not do to offend the old. <i>Tiens!</i> The heart beats too -slow, it must not receive the shock, <i>n'est-ce pas</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I never wanted to serve in your shop, grand'mère," exclaimed little -Margot.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but silence, my little beautiful! We have to make the francs to -secure the proper <i>dot</i> for thee, <i>mon enfant</i>. Now, let me consider. -Thou wilt not go to my <i>établissement</i> to-morrow, and I will dress thee -different. I will not even send thee to the school of la Princesse, but -I will myself take thee in my motor car to the château of the Marquis. -There I will dispose of thee for one short hour. During that hour thou -must play the <i>rôle</i> of <i>la malade</i>. Thou must appear worn and pale -and ill. Ah, but I am clever enough to manage, and behold assuredly it -shall be done. Thou shalt wear the dress of <i>la malade</i>, and thou must -speak low and soft and refuse the food which is offered to thee and -which in truth is not worth thy accepting. Now see, behold, be guided -by me, thy <i>belle</i> grand'mère, and <i>mon</i> Alphonse will guess nothing." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> - -<p>Little Margot, not being in the least disturbed or annoyed, readily -agreed. She returned to sit with her grandfather and kept him in fits -of laughter with accounts of her schoolfellows. Meanwhile, Madame was -very busy. She wrote two letters, one to the Marquis de Serrègnon, the -other to la Princesse, and she kept Margot away from the shop that -day. Margot was undoubtedly making the said shop pay, but that did not -matter at all, if only the adorable Alphonse was kept composed and -happy in his mind.</p> - -<p>When the hour approached for little Margot to visit the Duncans in -the tumble-down old château, she was dressed very carefully by her -grand'mère. In some curious manner the natural colour seemed to depart -from her rosy cheeks, her eyes, so dark and brilliant, looked a trifle -dull. She wore her school frock of course, but taking her all round, -she had a sort of extinguished appearance.</p> - -<p>Madame la Comtesse taught her carefully what she had to say.</p> - -<p>"'I have <i>mal à la tête</i>,' Thou wilt not say more; thou wilt not -say less. The Marquis will be scared for fear thou dost carry the -infection. Oh, la, la! It is a good idea, and they will not think of -the bright little Comtesse when they see the sad looking <i>malade</i> who -cannot eat or say much. Thou must keep all the particulars about the -<i>établissement</i> close<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> to thy breast. Thou must not allude to Madame -Marcelle. Thou wilt go to her to-morrow morning again as arranged and, -behold, I will have refreshments the most enticing for thee on thy -return to-day! Now then, my Ma'm'selle, come along! The Lady Hébé will -not notice the drooping child, who served her with so many chapeaux and -at so great a price. See now, thou wilt he thy old self to-morrow and -no one will ever guess our little strategy."</p> - -<p>Accordingly Margot, accompanied by grand'mère, arrived at the ancient -castle of the Marquis de Serrègnon. Dorothy rushed out to meet her. -Margot scrambled weakly out of the motor car, which was closed and -which was to call for her again in an hour and a half.</p> - -<p>Margot felt terribly inclined to laugh. She longed to say "I am -a little shopwoman and this is all nonsense," but if she did so, -according to grand'mère, she would destroy the life of that adorable -one, Alphonse St. Juste. Accordingly she went languidly into the house -and when Dorothy asked her in some surprise what ailed her and why she -looked so white and good-for-nothing, Margot said in a voice <i>très -douce</i>,</p> - -<p>"I have <i>mal à la tête</i>, Dorothy."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but what a pity that is," said Dorothy, "and we are all so gay, -so very, very gay. A whole lot of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> chapeaux have been sent to us from -Madame Marcelle—for Hébé, of course. I have told Hébé that you are -beautiful, Comtesse, but you don't look beautiful to-day."</p> - -<p>"It is <i>mal à la tête</i>," repeated Margot, trying to make her voice -sound as weary as possible.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>pauvre petite</i>," said Lady Dorothy. "You must lie on the sofa in -this salon. <i>Mon oncle</i> Gustave will not come in, because we will ask -him not, but you must see Hébé, for I long much to know your opinion of -her."</p> - -<p>Hébé Duncan at that moment bounded into the room. There was nothing -whatever French about her. She was a laughing, highly coloured, -rollicking English girl. Her age might have been eighteen—it might -have been more, it might have been less. She stared hard for a minute -out of her bright eyes at the little Comtesse and then said, "Oh, la, -la!" and afterwards went off into fits of laughter.</p> - -<p>The little Comtesse murmured, "It is <i>la mal à la tête</i>."</p> - -<p>Dorothy put soft cushions under the head that did not ache and a rug -over the little feet that pined to scamper about. As soon as ever she -had done this, Hébé pulled her out of the room.</p> - -<p>Then began a violent conversation on the wide landing outside the -Marquis' salon. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> - -<p>Dorothy said, "Impossible!"</p> - -<p>Hébé said, "It is true, a certainty!"</p> - -<p>Then she re-appeared holding several huge bandboxes in her hands.</p> - -<p>"I bought these," she said, "from a <i>très petite</i> Comtesse at the -<i>établissement</i> of la Madame Marcelle. Would you like to look at them?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Margot, and she suddenly began to cry. "I hate -<i>établissements</i>, I hate deceit. I have <i>not</i> got <i>mal à la tête</i>. Is -there any cold water near?"</p> - -<p>Lady Dorothy stared and Lady Hébé frowned. But Margot was only thinking -of Uncle Jacko, dear Uncle Jacko, and of grand-dad The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"Take me where I can find some water, some icy cold water, please," she -said to Dorothy.</p> - -<p>Dorothy obeyed in a sort of bewilderment. She took Margot to her own -room and soon the whitening process was removed from the little cheeks -and the brilliant and lovely colour returned. Margot's eyes sparkled as -of old.</p> - -<p>"Now you look like yourself," said Dorothy. "You have no <i>mal à la -tête</i>."</p> - -<p>"None, none, none," cried Margot. "Never had."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but how strange," said Lady Dorothy. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But never mind. Hébé will soon love you. Behold, Hébé, behold! This is -my little friend."</p> - -<p>"And my little shop-keeper," said Hébé in an angry voice.</p> - -<p>Margot's big eyes blazed with a kind of fury.</p> - -<p>"And are you really, really going to tell the Marquis?" said the child, -her eyes blazing. "Take your chapeaux then, here, and here, and here. I -have repented of my lie—I have confessed to you both—but—but——"</p> - -<p>She pulled the hats out of their bandboxes and flung them in Hébé's -face.</p> - -<p>"Now I despise you," she said. "I did what I did to help <i>ma belle</i> -grand'mère and she keeps M. le Comte in all luxury and does everything -for me. No, I don't want your tea; I don't want your <i>gâteaux</i>. I am -not ashamed of helping <i>ma belle</i> grand'mère. I help her a little, -and she helps me much, but I will never choose a hat for you again. -Understand! You can go to Madame Marcelle and you can spread the news, -if you like, that I help a little one who helps me much. Behold, our -château! It is neat, it is clean, it is white. It is full of things -most beautiful and <i>mon</i> grandpère eats of the best and lives in the -best style and he is happy. I will go on helping <i>ma belle</i> grand'mère -and you can do as you please, but I will never choose a hat for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> -you, Lady Hébé. See, I am off home now. I can easily get back to my -comfortable home."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but no, Margot, no," exclaimed Dorothy. "Do not be so silly."</p> - -<p>"I will not be silly, I will be wise," said Margot. "This is worse than -being young-old and old-young. Good-bye, for the present, I do not -choose to be a guest and be looked down on. It is not the Irish way, -and I did not think until now that it was the French way."</p> - -<p>She wrapped her pretty little coat round her shoulders and marched down -the avenue with the air of a small duchess.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless when Margot got back, which she did before the motor-car -had time to call for her, she was met by a singularly discontented -<i>belle grand'mère</i>.</p> - -<p>"Why, my pretty, why dost thou come so soon?" she exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"Because I couldn't act a lie, grand'mère, and I had to tell the truth, -grand'mère," said Margot. "The Lady Hébé is no lady. She calls herself -one, but she is not, and I will never, never sell her another hat."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>ma petite</i>, what mischief hast thou done!" said <i>la</i> grand'mère.</p> - -<p>"I care not, I care not at all," said little Margot.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> "I will not act -the lie even for thee, grand'mère. I wish that thou wouldst let me go -no more to the shop."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but thou must—thou art the fortune of the <i>établissement</i>, <i>ma -petite</i>," said grand'mère. "And think what fun it will be selling -chapeaux to others and never to the proud Comtesse. We will get someone -else for her and thou needst not serve her."</p> - -<p>"<i>Très bien</i>," answered little Margot and she entered her grandfather's -presence with a toss of her pretty head.</p> - -<p>But the next day at school things did not go so well with the little -Comtesse. It was quite evident that much as Dorothy had admired her the -day before, Hébé had brought her round to the impossibility of having -anything to do with a girl who sold hats at a shop. Dorothy not only -came round to Hébé's view of the question, but she enlightened her -school-fellows with the true status of the little Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"She's all a sham," said Dorothy. "I won't speak to her any more, no, -not me!"</p> - -<p>Margot was beginning to get rather fond of Dorothy, but she took her -English friend's desertion very coolly. She thought out matters in her -acute little brain. She let the French girls alone, but there were, -including herself and Dorothy, sixteen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> English girls in the school. -These girls were all very much about the same age as Margot. She got -them into one of the very small <i>salons</i>, which abounded in the old -palace, now converted into a school. They all looked askance at her, -but it was difficult to keep from smiling back into those smiling and -beautiful dark eyes and it was still more difficult to resist the -dimples that played round the lips and cheeks of the little Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"See, behold, listen!" she exclaimed. "Dorothy Duncan does not like me -because I help Madame Marcelle in her <i>magasin</i>. She pretends I am not -a lady—that is not true. I am a lady and my Irish grandfather has a -title higher up than the stars. What do we think of Comtes in Ireland -when we have 'The's' of the most ancient! <i>Ma belle</i> grand'mère has -asked me to help Madame Marcelle a little bit. <i>Ma belle</i> grand'mère -does great things for me and for <i>mon bon</i> grandpère. She is a woman -oh, of the noblest, and there is not a château greater or better than -ours at Arles. Now, behold, listen! What sort of château does the -Marquis keep? Is it tidy, is it neat? Are there good things to eat -therein? I guess not. Now, if you English girls will take my part I -will take you to the <i>établissement</i> of Madame Marcelle and get you a -hat each at cost price. You will have to pay ever so much less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> than -the Lady Hébé paid when I flung her chapeaux back into her face."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but didst thou, indeed, little one?" said Agnes Martin.</p> - -<p>Jane Raynor burst into a fit of laughter. All the English girls with -the exception of Dorothy were brought over to Margot in a body and on -the following morning she had a tremendous sale of hats, which she gave -by Madame la Comtesse's express wish to the bevy of English schoolgirls.</p> - -<p>She chose the hats with great care and exquisite taste. Having done -this, she went back to <i>la belle</i> grand'mère and told her that she did -not wish to continue at the school with Lady Dorothy.</p> - -<p>"I like those who are faithful," said Margot. "She is not faithful and -I will have none of her. I will attend in the shop every morning, <i>ma</i> -grandmère, and you and grandpère can teach me in the afternoon until -the happy, happy day when I return to Ireland."</p> - -<p>"And dost thou wish to leave us, <i>ma petite</i>?" asked the Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui, oui</i>, The Desmond is so very noble," said little Margot.</p> - -<p>"Thou must abide with us thy full time. Thou canst not leave until -September," said <i>la</i> Comtesse.</p> - -<p>Tears filled the little Comtesse's black eyes. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I know," she said, "I know. Uncle Jacko will call for me on that day. -Ah, but my heart will rejoice, it will sing! But indeed thou art kind, -<i>ma belle</i> Comtesse, and so is grandpère, but thou hast never seen The -Desmond. I will go to him for three months and come back again to thee -and will serve for a little time each day in the shop, and hearken, -Comtesse, thou wilt get me masters and mistresses next time, for I must -learn—yes, I must learn! I will not be an ignorant Comtesse of France, -and nothing will persuade me to disgrace The Desmond of Desmondstown."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER X.</span> <span class="smaller">THOU ART FAITHFUL AND SO ARE MY BEES.</span></h2> - -<p>"I am going to be your little pupil, grandpère," said Margot, raising -her beautiful eyes to the old man's face.</p> - -<p>"Eh, what," he exclaimed, "eh, what? I thought you were at the school -of Madame la Princesse."</p> - -<p>"I don't like that school, <i>mon cher</i> grandpère. I don't like the girls -there. I want you to teach me, yes, you! You can, you know, you know an -awful lot."</p> - -<p>"I don't know anything, little fledgling," answered grandpère. "What I -did learn, I have forgotten. I am an old man on the brink of eternity. -It is not given to me to teach even one so <i>douce</i> as thou, <i>mon ange</i>."</p> - -<p>"But can we not read poetry together?" said Margot. "I know you are -terribly old, grandpère; you are much—much older than The Desmond. -Oh, but The Desmond he is <i>magnifique</i>—so big—so tall—so broad, his -beard long and white as the snow! And his hair white as the snow!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> But -his eyes are somewhat like yours, grandpère, only they don't go in so -deep in his head. Yes, thou art old, <i>mon</i> grandpère, but still thou -canst teach thy little Margot. One hour a day; say it is done!"</p> - -<p>"But what shall I teach, my pretty?"</p> - -<p>"How to talk the beautiful French tongue like thyself. Surely that will -not be <i>difficile</i>. It will be to thee nothing, thou learned man; <i>très -bien</i>—ah, but I cannot say all the words I want! But <i>thou</i> canst do -it, mon grandpère!"</p> - -<p>"Only for one hour a day, my Margot. But listen! understand! believe! -We must not stay any longer than one hour over the French, <i>si belle</i>, -for it would fatigue the old man."</p> - -<p>"After that I will teach thee the Irish language," said Margot, her -eyes sparkling. "I will teach thee, and thou wilt laugh—oh, how thou -wilt laugh!"</p> - -<p>"Thou art a <i>très bonne petite enfant</i>," said the old man. "I like to -have thee near me, close to my side. For one hour each day, from two to -three, we will talk that language the most elegant in the wide world, -and after that I will lie back on my pillows of down and thou shalt -tell me things to make me laugh, and laugh again, <i>ma petite</i>."</p> - -<p>It was in this way that Margot's new life began. It was a very -busy one and on the whole happy. She was glad to leave the school -of la Princesse, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> she greatly liked selling chapeaux and robes -for her <i>belle</i> grand'mère la Comtesse. She was particularly happy -when members of the school of la Princesse de Fleury entered the -<i>établissement</i>, looked longingly at the pretty, clever child, and she -had the opportunity of giving them as she expressed it "<i>the back</i>." -She had great pride, had this little Comtesse, and when she swept past -Lady Dorothy Duncan and even the other English girls who had tried to -befriend her, she enjoyed herself immensely. She had become in fact a -sort of power in the <i>établissement</i> and never did the francs come in -so quickly and the robes and the chapeaux and the fans and the <i>gants</i> -fly so fast.</p> - -<p>She had a knack of picking out elderly, rich-looking people and -dressing them according to her own taste. Meanwhile she passed utterly -by the inmates of the great school and the other aristocrats, of whom -she took no notice whatsoever. The people whom little Margot attended -to were <i>bourgeoise</i> but they were rich, and Margot was clever enough -to charge them according to their means. In short, things were going so -well, that Madame <i>la belle</i> grand'mère felt it only her duty to give -the child the very best music lessons which Arles could produce.</p> - -<p>The afternoons were sacred to <i>mon</i> grandpère, and in short the little -incident in connection with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> the school was well-nigh forgotten. Oh, -what a very happy girl was Margot St. Juste! But she little knew that a -cloud was arising in the blue of her sky and that she was not to escape -scot free.</p> - -<p>Hébé Duncan was really engaged to a young nobleman of great -distinction. The marriage was to take place within a very short time. -She had an aunt who lived some distance from Arles who would supply -her with that <i>dot</i> which the Marquis could not possibly raise, and -this aunt came constantly to Arles to see about her niece's robes and -chapeaux for <i>le mariage</i>. The fame, the taste of the small dark-eyed -Comtesse had reached the ears of Madame Derode and she was determined -that the little Comtesse and no one else should assist in the choosing -of the marriage garments for young Lady Hébé Duncan. But it is one -thing for man to propose and another thing for God to dispose. The -little Comtesse was exceedingly busy that morning turning a fat, -ill-made Frenchwoman of the farmer class into an elegant lady.</p> - -<p>She was choosing the right robes, the right chapeaux, she was—with a -skill all her own—softening the tints of Madame Vollot. Madame Vollot -hardly knew herself in her chapeaux and her robes. She stood in the -centre of the largest salon, the admired of all beholders. A group of -young girls surrounded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> her while <i>la petite</i> Comtesse gave her orders -in a firm and resolute voice.</p> - -<p>"You must wear this green, so dark," she said. "<i>Tiens</i>, and here -are the very chapeaux for you! Hesitate not, Madame Vollot! You will -look—oh, of the most charming!"</p> - -<p>A little way to the right stood Madame Derode, the Lady Hébé Duncan, -and Dorothy, her sister. <i>La petite</i> Comtesse kept her back to the -group. She was absorbed with Madame Vollot. Just then Madame Marcelle -came up and whispered some words to the little Comtesse.</p> - -<p>The little Comtesse shook her pretty head.</p> - -<p>"<i>Non, non</i>," she said, "it cannot be. I have all my time occupied to -the moment. They have offended me and I will not serve them now. See, -behold, when I have done with this <i>chère Madame</i>, there are others who -are waiting for me. I cannot give any advice at all to the Ladies Hébé -and Dorothy. You must attend them yourself, Madame Marcelle."</p> - -<p>Madame Marcelle did her best, but the deed was done. Dorothy and Hébé, -accompanied by their aunt, left the <i>établissement</i> with their heads in -the air and a very significant expression on their faces.</p> - -<p>"Behold, I had my way," said little Margot with a smile, and she went -on giving all her skill and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> knowledge to the wives of the different -farmers, who were so rich and could pay so well. But when they got into -the street, Hébé said a word to her aunt, Madame Derode.</p> - -<p>"I have suffered an insult," said Hébé, "and I wish to repay it."</p> - -<p>"An insult, my dear child!" said Madame. "What do you mean? Who would -dare to insult a bride-elect? Ah, me, I know life and I know men, also. -For thee is perfect happiness, my little Hébé."</p> - -<p>"Nevertheless I have suffered an insult," said Hébé Duncan. "Did you -not observe that ugly little girl, who gave herself such airs and who -only attended to the farmer folk?"</p> - -<p>"You cannot allude to <i>la petite</i> Comtesse?" said Madame Derode. "Why -she is a most beautiful, very young girl!"</p> - -<p>"Nevertheless she has insulted me," said Hébé. "We have plenty of time. -We will not take over long on this business. Aunt Matilda, I want to -drive to the Château St. Juste."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but certainly," said Madame Derode. "Do you know the Comte, Hébé? -He is a very proud old man; he makes but few acquaintances."</p> - -<p>"I shall get to know him," said Hébé.</p> - -<p>"And I," exclaimed Dorothy.</p> - -<p>"Well, have it your own way, my sweet pets. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> I hear that he is of -the most delicate. We will not detain him long."</p> - -<p>"Not long," said Hébé, blushing and laughing.</p> - -<p>They arrived in a very few minutes at the château, which was in -exquisite order. Everything new and fresh and, according to Madame -Derode, perfectly lovely, for she was the sort of woman who liked -whiteness and spotlessness and everything in perfect present-day taste. -Her own château was neat, but not to compare with this. She gave a -quick sigh under her breath, but her nieces were too much occupied with -their own affairs to observe it.</p> - -<p>Now it so happened that always in the morning le Comte St. Juste took -what he called his airing. He went out leaning on the arm of his -<i>garçon</i>, a young man dressed in the ancient livery of the St. Justes. -He leant heavily on the <i>garçon's</i> arm and went invariably in one -direction, and that was first to examine the thriving rows of beehives -and second the peaches, which were ripening to a lovely golden red on -the high brick wall. The Comte St. Juste used to count the peaches and -rejoice in their fragrance. He was a happy old man—very happy since he -had married his Ninon. It mattered little to him if she had once kept -a shop. She kept one no longer. He could not have married her if that -was the case. They lived oh, so happily on the rich <i>dot</i> which she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -had brought with her. She was one in ten thousand, his pretty Ninon, so -young, so gay, and of the taste the most perfect.</p> - -<p>It therefore so happened that when the three ladies drove up in their -automobile to the Château St. Juste, they only found Madame la Comtesse -standing on the front steps and giving directions to one of her -numerous gardeners.</p> - -<p>Madame Derode got out of her car and, introduced herself and her nieces.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but I am in ecstasies to know you, Madame," said the Comtesse, -"but if you do indeed seek my Alphonse, you cannot see him now. He is -at this present moment resting on his couch of down and must not be -disturbed."</p> - -<p>"I know him by appearance," said Lady Dorothy, "and he is not on his -couch of down. He is in the garden yonder; behold, he is talking to a -<i>garçon</i>! I go to tell him, to tell him the truth. I will not stand the -sins of your little granddaughter, Madame la Comtesse. She serves in -your <i>magasin</i>, and her rudeness is unthinkable. I go to report to M. -le Comte the wicked ways of that ugly child."</p> - -<p>"But—but—I entreat you to stop!" cried the anguished voice of the -little Comtesse. "He knows nothing—nothing at all—oh, it will kill -him, and he with the pride of all the St. Justes in his veins. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -knows not of the <i>établissement</i>. <i>Le petit bébé</i> and I, we keep it -from him as a secret the most profound. Do not be so cruel as to injure -him, <i>chère</i> Mademoiselle! You go to the school of my friend, Madame le -Fleury. I recognize your <i>bijou</i> charming face."</p> - -<p>"I will have my revenge," said Dorothy. "I mind not at all the age of -that stupid old man. I see him and I will go."</p> - -<p>"Dorothy, don't—Dorothy, I command thee not to go," said Madame -Derode, but Dorothy cared very little indeed for any such command. She -had light and agile feet and before the unhappy little Comtesse could -prevent her, had rushed into the garden where the peaches and the bees -were, dropped a low curtsey to M. le Comte and then said in a hurried -tone,</p> - -<p>"M'sieur speaks the tongue of England. I am an English girl. My name -is Dorothy Duncan. I am at the school of la Princesse de Fleury. <i>La -petite</i> Comtesse no longer goes to that school."</p> - -<p>The old Comte managed to hold himself very erect. He fixed his eyes on -the pale blue eyes of the English girl.</p> - -<p>"Will you have a peach?" he said.</p> - -<p>"No, I want not your peaches, M. le Comte. But, listen, behold, I want -to tell the very truth. <i>La petite</i> was practically expelled from our -school. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> would have nothing to do with her. Think, M. le Comte, -would it be likely? She attends in a shop."</p> - -<p>"In a—in a——" began the old Comte.</p> - -<p>"In the shop of the present Comtesse. It is now known as the -<i>établissement</i> of Madame Marcelle and <i>la petite</i> Comtesse goes there -every day of her life to sell ugly, common things to the wives of -farmers. The shop belongs to La Comtesse and she dreads that you should -know. Ah, but what a buzzing," continued Dorothy at the end of her -sentence. There were innumerable voices; there was the angry tone of -Hébé confirming her sister's words; there was Madame Derode in tears, -for she could not hear to afflict the aged; and there was the Comtesse, -white as a sheet, bending over "<i>mon adorable</i> Alphonse," who had sunk -slowly but surely to the ground in a state of complete unconsciousness.</p> - -<p>Dorothy stood at his back, a little frightened at her own words, -and then she uttered a scream and a shriek, for the celebrated bees -of M. le Comte St. Juste were surrounding her. They were getting -into her hair, they were stinging her neck, her arms, even her lips -and her eyes. She could not get away from them. The old man heard -nothing—nothing at all, and Dorothy rushed out of the garden extremely -sorry for her mean little revenge.</p> - -<p>She was immediately followed by Lady Hébé and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> Madame Derode. No one -had been stung but Dorothy and she could do nothing but cry out at her -pain. Madame Derode called her a child of the most <i>méchantes</i>—of -revenge the most puerile. She said the bees had but done their duty and -when she dropped Dorothy at her school, she said that someone who could -remove the stings had better be sent for, but that <i>hélas</i>, for the -rest, she pitied not at all <i>la pauvre chatte</i>!</p> - -<p>After some difficulty, the unconscious Comte was brought into the -house. He was feeling particularly weak and the abrupt sayings of -Dorothy caused his heart to stop and then to bound again and then there -came a dizziness and a darkness over him and he knew no more.</p> - -<p>But when he came to himself on his couch of down and the doctor was -bending over him and Ninon was weeping tears on his face, he dimly -recalled what had passed. The doctor administered a restorative and -then went to another room with Madame la Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"Someone has given <i>le bon mari</i> a profound shock," he remarked.</p> - -<p>"It is true; it is quite true," said the Comtesse. "Oh, Dr. Jacqueline, -I must confide in you. Listen and you will know all. Before I met my -beloved husband, I was the well-known Ninon Lecoles and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> there was not -an <i>établissement</i> like mine in the whole of Arles, but behold! I met -the old man, so gracious, so lonely, so neglected, and I exercised upon -him a little piece of what the English would call the deceit. I told -him of my wealth and he offered me his hand but only on condition that -I would give up the <i>établissement</i> which brought me in the francs -in such multitudes. Monsieur, I pretended to agree, but oh, la! la! -how could I give up my beautiful <i>établissement</i>; how could I keep -this château as it is now and give <i>mon</i> Alphonse his comforts? So I -changed the name of the <i>établissement</i> and called it no longer that -of Ninon Lecoles, but the establishment unique of Madame Marcelle. -But it was mine—mine all the time, kind <i>M. le docteur</i>. How could I -keep this place going without it? And then when <i>la petite</i> Comtesse -came, she proved to have the gift <i>extraordinaire</i>, and she worked in -my <i>établissement</i> and does work there every day and she brings in the -francs as they never came before. But we decided to keep the knowledge -from the old man because he is weak and feeble. Ah, <i>M. le docteur</i>, -what am I to do? If I give up my <i>établissement</i>, the death of <i>mon</i> -Alphonse will assuredly lie at my door and yet, if I keep it—Oh, -doctor, counsel a wretched woman!"</p> - -<p>"You must keep the <i>établissement, sans doute</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> <i>Votre mari</i> has had a -shock but he will not die. That girl was mean who told him, but I have -just been removing the stings of bees from her and she will be much -swollen and distressed for some days. There is no doubt whatever that -she has got her punishment. Ah, and here comes <i>la petite</i> Comtesse!"</p> - -<p>The little Comtesse stared in some astonishment at the doctor's -motor-car, at <i>la belle</i> grand'mère's tearful face and at the confusion -which seemed to surround the hitherto peaceful place.</p> - -<p>"Oh, grand'mère," she exclaimed. "I have sold three thousand francs -worth of goods for thee this morning. <i>Oui, très vrai</i>, with my own -skill I did it! I would not look at Lady Hébé nor at Lady Dorothy, the -ugly stuck-up things that they are. But I attended to the wives of the -farmers and they paid cash down, grand'mère, and they are going to -Paris all three of them in their new chapeaux and robes and fans. Ah, -but I made the stout one look slim and the slim one a little <i>grosse, -n'est ce pas</i>? And the whole of them elegant. And Dorothy and Hébé were -fluttering round waiting for my judgment, but grand'mère, I gave it -not. I would not speak to them; they offended me. I gave them my back, -grand'mère."</p> - -<p>"But thou hast injured thy grandpère," said the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> poor little Comtesse. -"That Dorothy is wicked, and has had her revenge. She found <i>mon</i> -Alphonse in the garden with the peaches and the bees, and she told him -all about thee, <i>ma petite</i>. He fell in a swoon, his horror was great, -but the <i>chères abeilles</i> have stung her well."</p> - -<p>"And thou art weeping when I have made three thousand francs for thee," -said little Margot. "I will go straight to grandpère and set him right."</p> - -<p>"Let the little one have her way, she has the genius," said the doctor.</p> - -<p>"You keep away, grand'mère; let me go alone to <i>mon</i> grandpère," said -Margot. And she ran in the direction of the <i>salon</i> with the couch of -down.</p> - -<p>Margot had a very gentle way of speaking, few things put her seriously -out, and she was more pleased than otherwise at grandpère learning the -truth. He was lying very still on his sofa; his face was white and a -tear or two trickled down his withered cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Thou art not like The Desmond, grandpère," said little Margot. "The -Desmond would not mind anything so trifling as a shop."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>ma petite, ma petite</i>," exclaimed the old Comte, and now he burst -into floods of tears.</p> - -<p>Margot knelt by him and wiped his tears away very gently. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That flow of tears will give thee relief," she said. "Thou wilt be -better, ah, better! Let me arrange <i>pour vous</i>, grandpère. I like -putting the mighty from their seats. Oh, grandpère, I have such a -beautiful story to tell thee!"</p> - -<p>The old man ceased crying, and looked at the little Comtesse with -wondering eyes.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps it is a lie," he said.</p> - -<p>"Of course," said Margot, "there is a shop—but it is not <i>thy</i> shop. -It belongs to Madame Marcelle."</p> - -<p>"And not to my Ninon—oh, thank the God Almighty!"</p> - -<p>"I help Madame Marcelle a little while I am learning of the French -tongue, <i>si belle</i>—that is all. Thou wilt not forbid it. Thy Ninon, -<i>ma belle</i> grand'mère, is crying her eyes out at the thought of -hurting thee, but it was done by those wicked girls. Behold I was -in the <i>établissement</i>, and I have got—ah, the taste <i>magnifique!</i> -and the farmers' wives—some very red, some very thin, came in to be -suited with robes. Ah, but they were of the most superb that I did -show them, and I suited the taste of each. I made the fat, red one to -look thin and pale and elegant, ah <i>oui</i>, and the thin one I gave her -a good figure and I chose chapeaux the most suitable. And I put into -the pocket of Madame Marcelle three thousand francs this morning. For -they are rich,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> these wives of farmers, and they pay as they go. But -Dorothy, <i>la petite chatte</i>, and Hébé, they came in and they wanted me -to leave my farmers' wives and attend to them. They meant, doubtless, -grandpère, to run up a long bill and keep it going—going—going, so I -said I would have nothing to do with them because I love them not and -I do love the wives of the farmers. Then they were angry and they came -here to see thee, <i>mon</i> grandpère, and behold, Dorothy, she was stung -by thy bees. It served her right, didn't it, grandpère?"</p> - -<p>"Was she stung?" said grandpère. "I offered her a peach, which she -deserved not. I did not know that she was stung. <i>Mon enfant</i>, thou art -faithful and so are <i>mes chères abeilles</i>."</p> - -<p>"And thou wilt see thy Ninon who weeps outside?" said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Of a verity I will see my Ninon. What care I how many <i>établissements</i> -Madame Marcelle keeps?"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XI.</span> <span class="smaller">THUNDER STORM.</span></h2> - -<p>Margot had been brought up by severe and much-detested Aunt Priscilla, -and by that dearly loved and holy man, Uncle Jacko, to dread a lie -beyond anything in the world. Aunt Priscilla scolded her and told her -of the awful fate of little girls who told lies. Uncle Jacko pursued a -far gentler and more effective way.</p> - -<p>Uncle Jacko's way prevailed. He talked of the holy children who lived -in the New Jerusalem. He talked of the smiling Christ, and God, the -Father, and of the Holy Spirit, who entered into the heart of the -child who tried to be good. He talked very beautifully and little -Margot thought <i>him</i> very beautiful when he did talk on this subject, -and never up to the present moment had she broken her solemn word to -Uncle Jacko that she would at all costs and under every circumstance -keep to the truth. Nevertheless, here was she now, having broken that -solemn word, having made <i>cher</i> grandpère St. Juste imagine that the -<i>établissement</i> was kept by Madame <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>Marcelle and that <i>la belle</i> -grand'mère had nothing whatever to do with it.</p> - -<p>Oh, it was all terrible, notwithstanding grand'mère's passionate kisses -to the little girl, and notwithstanding the fact that Alphonse and his -Ninon were once more priceless treasures each to the other. Margot went -about with a heavy burden on her small heart. She had told grandpère -St. Juste a lie—yes, yes, there was no doubt on the subject. Her -spirits, so happy and high; her animation so fragrant, so delightful to -watch and listen to, seemed more or less to desert her. She used to sob -bitter tears at night in her little cot and long beyond words for the -moment when she might confess all to Uncle Jacko.</p> - -<p>The old grandpère noticed the difference in <i>la petite</i> and much -wondered at it. Ninon, his wife, also noticed it and did her best, -her very best, to keep the knowledge from the eyes of the adorable -Alphonse. Still the fact remained—<i>la petite</i> was not what she was. -She learnt a certain number of lessons from grandpère and enjoyed her -music lessons, which <i>la belle</i> grand'mère supplied her with. And she -worked wonderful changes in the <i>établissement</i> with her beautiful -taste and delightful <i>chic</i> appearance. But still there was the lie, -always the lie, resting on her white little soul. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> - -<p>On a certain occasion, <i>la belle</i> grand'mère found <i>la petite</i> Comtesse -in floods of tears.</p> - -<p>"What is it, <i>ma chérie petite</i>?" she exclaimed. "Oh, <i>très drôle</i>, Oh -<i>ma petite, c'est drôle</i>, to see the tears flow for no reason!"</p> - -<p>"But there is reason, grand'mère," said little Margot. "I have told a -black, black lie."</p> - -<p>"Thou! <i>Ce n'est pas possible!</i>"</p> - -<p>"But I have, <i>ma</i> grand'mère. I did it for thee, because thy trouble -was so great. <i>Mon</i> grandpère, he thinks that the <i>établissement</i> -belongs to Madame Marcelle. I got him to think so and he was contented. -Oh, my heart, it is broken, it is broken! Grand'mère, my heart is -broken in little bits. Canst thou not see?"</p> - -<p>Grand'mère burst into a low sweet laugh, not an angry laugh by any -means, but one that puzzled <i>la petite</i> Margot not a little.</p> - -<p>"Thou hast a genuine worship of the beautiful," she cried. "Thou dost -help Madame Marcelle in her <i>établissement</i>. For me, my fears are at -an end. Why dost thou weep, <i>ma petite</i>? Oh, <i>les belles robes et -chapeaux</i> that thou dost make the old women buy. No one else could do -it but thee! The beautiful costumes thou dost give them, at the highest -rates. Wherever does the lie come in, <i>ma petite</i>?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh, <i>belle</i> grand'mère," said little Margot, "thou dost know the shop -is thine."</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais non, mais non</i>," cried Ninon, clasping her tiny hands. "The -great <i>établissement</i> at Arles <i>belongs</i> to Madame Marcelle."</p> - -<p>"Then why didst thou cry and get so frightened that day, <i>ma belle</i> -grand'mère?" cried little Margot.</p> - -<p>"It was an attack of the nerves, <i>ma petite</i>. Now run out and play, -thou dost want the air. Thou thyself with thy tact did save <i>mon</i> -Alphonse and I am a happy woman again and the <i>dot</i> of my little -one—it grows and grows and grows! Ah, but she makes her own <i>dot</i>, -<i>n'est-ce pas</i>? Now run out and play; thou didst tell no black lie."</p> - -<p>Margot wondered very much indeed if her grand'mère was right. She was -a little comforted but not altogether. She had a shrewd sense of the -justice of things and went to her almanac to tick off the number of -days which yet remained before Uncle Jacko came to fetch her.</p> - -<p>Now this little French mademoiselle gave herself in her own sweet -independent way a great deal of liberty. She ran whooping and smiling -down the avenue. <i>La belle</i> grand'mère saw her and smiled to herself.</p> - -<p>"It is dreadful to have <i>la petite</i> with a conscience that pricks," -thought grand'mère, "but I think I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> have soothed her, and to-morrow -morning I will communicate with Madame Marcelle and tell her that a -lie which rests so lightly on the soul of the French madame must be -communicated to little Margot. She must tell little Margot that the -<i>établissement</i> is altogether her own, then <i>la petite</i> will smile -again and feel that she has told no lie. Yes, it can be done—it must -be done! <i>Mon</i> Alphonse notices the cloud on the brow of <i>la petite</i>. -It must vanish. She must converse, she must amuse. She must be as of -old, a French <i>petite</i> with the wit of Ireland in her veins. Ah, she is -truly diverting with her little pricked conscience, but I can set that -matter right for her."</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Margot walked along the road thinking very hard indeed and -wondering if <i>la belle</i> grand'mère had told her the truth. It was now -getting to the end of August and in little more than a fortnight she -would be returning to that ancient man of might, The Desmond. Oh, how -happy she would be; how she would nestle in his arms and tell him of -all her sorrows! And on the way to Desmondstown she would confide in -Uncle Jacko. Yes, he would tell her what was right to be done—Uncle -Jacko, who only feared God, but no man that ever lived—Uncle Jacko -with the clear face and soft gentle eyes, who was so unlike Aunt -Priscilla, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> woman who was altogether terrible. Ah, but even Uncle -Jacko was not quite so dear to her as was her grandfather, The Desmond. -He and Madam were perfect and so was Uncle Fergus perfect, and as to -the old-youngs—well, she could not help them. They were much nicer -than most of the French people she saw around her. So she skipped and -ran and sang a gay little French song all to herself, but she did not -notice that all the time as she was going further and further away from -the château, a heavy cloud was coming up and obscuring the sky, a cloud -black and cruel as night when it is hopeless—quite hopeless with gloom.</p> - -<p>Pretty little Margot suddenly stopped singing because a great heavy -blob of rain fell on the tip of her little nose. This was immediately -followed by a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder so loud, so -vivid, that it seemed to shake the very ground under her feet. There -was a hedge at the side of the straight French road and Margot took -refuge there, crouching in so as not to get too wet. She had just -managed to effect her object when she heard an unmistakably English -voice saying to her,</p> - -<p>"It's you, Margot St. Juste; I'm your late schoolfellow, Matilda -Raynes. I came out without leave. I put on my best hat, the one you -chose for me. I wanted to go into Arles and to sun myself in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> sight -of the French windows of your great shop, Margot. But, behold, look, -the rain, it trickles down, it pours in sheets; my chapeau which you -chose for me will be destroyed. We were all so glad, Margot, when that -horrid Dorothy got stung by the bees of M. le Comte. Oh, but she was -a figure of fun, and she howled and screamed when the doctor came and -removed the stings. Why did you leave us, little Margot? Could a girl -such as Dorothy interfere with you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, she could, she did!" said little Margot. "I'm not going back to -the school of la Princesse de Fleury any more."</p> - -<p>"Oh, my hat, my hat," sobbed Matilda. "Oh, how it pours—and see the -lightning, it flashes through the raindrops. Oh, let us get further -under this hedge. My beautiful chapeau will be destroyed and it will be -known that I left the grounds without leave."</p> - -<p>"Come," said Margot, getting up in her quick and resolute way. "Never -mind your chapeau, it is not safe to be under a hedge with thunder and -lightning like this. Behold, the lightning may kill you—come, come!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, but I cannot have my beautiful chapeau ruined," said Matilda.</p> - -<p>"Never mind, I'll speak to grand'mère and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span><i>perhaps</i> we may contrive -another," said Margot. "Come along at once or I must go alone. I don't -mean to be killed for the sake of any chapeau."</p> - -<p>"Don't leave me, don't leave me; that lightning frightens me!" said -Matilda.</p> - -<p>"I must leave you," said Margot, "unless you come with me. You don't -want both your chapeau and yourself to die. Come, quick!"</p> - -<p>Margot pulled her with a strong arm. Matilda found herself forced -to come out into the centre of the road. They had half a mile to -walk through the drenching rain. The poor little chapeau became -like a sponge; both girls were wet to the skin, for the torrents of -rain continued and the lightning still played, played brilliantly, -unceasingly, and the thunder roared with mighty force. At last they -got to the gates of the Château St. Juste, and Margot led her dripping -companion into the well-kept hall. Both grandpère and grand'mère were -waiting in the hall for their little Margot.</p> - -<p>She went swiftly up to them.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mon</i> grandpère must not touch me," she said, "for I am a pool of -water. I met Matilda Raynes—she belongs to the school of la Princesse. -May we go upstairs, grand'mère, and take off our dripping things, and -when the storm gets less may a message be sent to la Princesse, and may -I lend Matilda some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> of my clothes, grand'mère, until hers are dry? Ah, -<i>tiens, le chapeau</i>, it is pulp!" She kicked the offending hat with her -foot.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later, both little girls were lying warm and snug in -Margot's bed. Margot told Matilda that she was nothing but a <i>bébé</i>, -but that if she stopped crying she would try to get her another chapeau.</p> - -<p>"It shall be for nothing this time," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Ah, thou little shop-keeper!" exclaimed Matilda, "thou little adorable -one!"</p> - -<p>"Call me not shop-keeper, please. I am Comtesse St. Juste. Now lie -still and I will get up and dress. Louise, see, has a message been sent -to la Princesse de Fleury?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>mais oui</i>, Comtesse!" replied Louise.</p> - -<p>"Then I will dress. I will wear my coral frock, and thou must get a -white frock of mine and undergarments for mademoiselle. <i>Vite, vite</i>, -Louise! Mademoiselle wants to get up."</p> - -<p>"I don't. I want to stay here forever," said Matilda, yawning not a -little.</p> - -<p>"Thou lazy one," said Margot, "thou must be returned to the school."</p> - -<p>Louise went out of the room to return with the information that the -bath was hot and ready for both <i>les petites</i>. Then the two children -were dressed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> in Margot's clothes and Matilda flung her arms round -Margot's neck and said,</p> - -<p>"Oh, but behold me of the most miserable! I am English and I do not -like a French school, and I have a stepmother and I love her not, and -my father is harsh and cruel. Will you not pity me, Margot? When the -time comes for you to leave this so-called beautiful country of France, -may I not come, too? I am learning to be a very bad girl at the school -and I was always a bad girl at home, because of my stepmother and my -harsh cruel father. Could you not get me to that castle of yours in -beautiful Ireland? If I lived for even three or four weeks with you I -might turn good, I might indeed."</p> - -<p>"I can't say," replied Margot, "I must think. There, thou art dressed -and my clothes suit thee better than thine own. Hold thy head erect. -See, I will dry thy hair and I will go now, this very minute, and speak -to Madame, <i>ma belle</i> grand'mère, about a chapeau for thee."</p> - -<p>"Ah, yes, yes," said Matilda. "You are noble, Comtesse. I love you, I -could crawl at your feet."</p> - -<p>"But I should not wish it," said Margot. "I hate people that crawl. I -want you to become good, and perhaps, God knows, it may be the right -thing to do. Stay where you are, Matilda, and I will go and speak to -grand'mère." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> - -<p>She came back in a few minutes with a light dancing step.</p> - -<p>"Grand'mère <i>est un ange</i>. She will settle with Madame Marcelle and I -will choose you a chapeau for nothing at all. I know the kind that will -suit you. I can dispose of you in a moment."</p> - -<p>"But, but——" exclaimed Matilda. "Am I not to see you again, sweetest -Margot?"</p> - -<p>"You have got to go back to school this minute. The rain is over and -grandpère's automobile is waiting for you. Madame la Comtesse has -written to Madame la Princesse and you will not be scolded and you will -send back my clothes after they are well washed and ironed. I cannot -tell you anything about Ireland for a long day yet. Go now, Matilda, -and don't grovel, I beg."</p> - -<p>Matilda looked rather startled and slightly frightened.</p> - -<p>Margot danced down to her grandpère.</p> - -<p>"I have missed thee so, <i>ma petite</i>," he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"The girl would have died, grandpère, if I had not rescued her. A flash -of lightning would have taken her up to heaven as Elijah was taken up."</p> - -<p>"I know not that story," said grandpère.</p> - -<p>"Ah, well, grandpère, thou art a little ignorant in some things, but -never mind, I want to ask thee a question." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ask away, my cabbage, my fledgling," said the old man.</p> - -<p>"I want to suppose a bit," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Suppose away, then, <i>ma petite</i>."</p> - -<p>"There was a little girl and she did wrong," said Margot. "It's all -suppose, don't forget that, grandpère."</p> - -<p>"I'm not forgetting," said grandpère.</p> - -<p>"She did wrong, a deep, terrible wrong," continued Margot, "and there -came to her a sorrow which was great, which was severe. Her conscience -pricked her. For behold, understand, she was a Protestant and could -not confide in one of thy Catholic Church. Then it occurred to her -that she might make reparation for her wrong and do something that she -most badly hated, and so set her pricked conscience at rest. Dost thou -think, if she did that thing, that the great God would forgive her, -grandpère?"</p> - -<p>"I am certain of it, <i>ma petite</i>. I am as sure as that I am a very -old man and that thou art my best <i>chérie</i>. But now, let's talk of -something cheerful. What does it matter to thee, <i>petite</i>, how wrong -others are if thou thyself art free?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing at all, grandpère, dear grandpère."</p> - -<p>"Then make me laugh, my little pigeon. Turn to the merry things of -life. We of the French nation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> are always cheerful. That is why we live -so long. The gloom, it kills us, but the sunshine, behold, it gives -us life. Be my sunshine now, <i>ma petite</i>. See, behold, make thy old -grandpère laugh. It is all right and good and as it should be. Ah, my -little one, but I love thee well!"</p> - -<p>"And I love thee, grandpère, but not as well as The Desmond. Thou dost -not mind?"</p> - -<p>"I could kill The Desmond," said grandpère.</p> - -<p>Margot burst into a peal of laughter.</p> - -<p>"Indeed, but thou couldst not," she remarked. "Thou hast not got his -height nor his strength and thou art older. I see the age in thy sunken -eyes. Now I will tell thee a story <i>très drôle</i>."</p> - -<p>Little Margot told her story and Madame la Comtesse listened to the -childish laughter and the clear, happy, childish voice, and said to -herself that there never was anybody before quite so sweet as little -Margot. She must get that little conscience to prick no more.</p> - -<p>"There is no time like the present," thought la Comtesse. "The shower -has passed away and the air is fresh and here is the motor car -returning, having conveyed that common English girl back to her school. -I will go this very moment and speak to Madame Marcelle."</p> - -<p>This Madame la Comtesse did, and to such <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>purpose and with such -excellent effect that she did not once upset the nerves of Madame -Marcelle and came home to enjoy the society of her husband and -granddaughter in the best of spirits.</p> - -<p>The next morning Margot went as usual to the <i>établissement</i>, but -before she began her accustomed work, Madame Marcelle called her into -her private room and there she told her that she was working for -herself, not for Madame la Comtesse, and that she found <i>la petite</i> -Comtesse so useful that she was going to pay her two hundred francs -a month for every month that she was with her, and that it had been -further arranged that the little Comtesse before she left France for -Ireland was to receive five hundred francs besides, having her <i>dot</i> -put carefully away for her in addition.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but thou wilt be <i>riche, ma petite</i>!" said Madame Marcelle, "and -now go and attend to thy duties, for my <i>magasin</i> is like no other in -the whole of Arles."</p> - -<p>Little Margot looked with her firm, clear, very dark eyes full into -the face of Madame Marcelle. It seemed to her that she did not believe -her in the least. Nevertheless, the woman had told her what was beyond -doubt the apparent truth. The little Comtesse attended to her usual -duties, and in the end wrote a letter to Matilda Raynes, telling her -that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> she would write to her grandfather and, if all went well, would -invite her to spend two or three weeks with her at Desmondstown.</p> - -<p>Margot took a long time in writing her letter, but it was written -at last. She would like to bring a girl, an English girl, back to -Desmondstown; would The Desmond mind? The girl should never interfere -with him, the darling, nor with that dear, dear Madam, but she could -play with Norah and Bridget, and perhaps a little bit with Eileen. She -was unhappy at home, and not very happy at school and would The Desmond -greatly mind?</p> - -<p>The Desmond did not mind at all. He said to Madam:</p> - -<p>"Put the English miss as far away from me as possible. Hand her over to -the care of our young daughters. For me, I await my grandchild. I think -and dream of no one else."</p> - -<p>"It shall be as you wish, Fergus," said Madam. "It is now the 1st of -September. We shall have the little angel with us in less than a week."</p> - -<p>"Ah, the good God be praised!" said The Desmond. "I look not ahead, I -enjoy the present to the very, very utmost."</p> - -<p>"Your little grandchild loves you," said Madam. "We will get her -room neat and beautiful for her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> and we will creep in, in the early -morning, and see her asleep."</p> - -<p>"Hand in hand," said The Desmond, looking at his old wife.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Fergus, hand in hand," said Madam.</p> - -<p>They looked at each other with a world of love in their eyes. That love -had never been so strong as since the adorable grandchild had appeared -on the scene. It had nearly killed them to part with her, but she was -coming back again. Their night of weeping was turned into a morning of -joy.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XII.</span> <span class="smaller">GEM OF THE OCEAN.</span></h2> - -<p>There was no doubt on this occasion with regard to the welcome prepared -for little Margot St. Juste. She and her beloved Uncle John and the -<i>Reparation</i>, as she called the uninteresting English girl, arrived at -the station nearest to Desmondstown somewhat late at night.</p> - -<p>Matilda was overcome with delight at the thought of her three weeks at -Desmondstown. She begged and implored of Margot to call her Tilly.</p> - -<p>Margot said, "That's not your name in my mind," but when Uncle Jacko -looked at the little girl out of his kind, thoughtful, sweet eyes, she -felt a sudden lump rising in her throat.</p> - -<p>Why should she be unkind to Tilly?</p> - -<p>"I'll call you Till," she said, "only please don't clasp my hand quite -so tight. I'm an Irish girl and this is Ireland, beautiful Ireland."</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"The first gem of the ocean,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The first pearl of the sea,"<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>murmured Uncle Jacko. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, that's right," said Margot. "You'll see what it is like in the -morning, Till, and grandfather, the blessed darling, says that you may -stay for three whole weeks. That is, if you are good."</p> - -<p>"Of course I'll be good; I'll be very good indeed," said Tilly. "Anyone -would be good with <i>la petite</i> Comtesse."</p> - -<p>"I'm not <i>la petite</i> Comtesse here," said Margot. "I'm 'pushkeen' here, -and most likely the old-youngs will call you 'nanny-goat.'"</p> - -<p>"Nanny-goat! But I won't be nanny-goat," said Matilda, thoroughly -offended.</p> - -<p>"Well, we'll see, but you can't help yourself."</p> - -<p>"And who are the old-youngs?" asked Tilly.</p> - -<p>"You'll see them also, Till," remarked Margot. "Oh, Uncle Jacko, -darling Uncle Jacko, have we arrived?"</p> - -<p>"We have, <i>acushla machree, alanna</i>—heart's best darling," said the -elderly clergyman, clasping the child for one swift moment tightly in -his arms. "Ah, but you are the soul of my soul," he muttered.</p> - -<p>Tilly looked on in amazement. She began to consider all these foolish -words, none of which she could understand, as a certain token that the -Irish were half mad. Still it was glorious to be close to <i>la petite</i> -Comtesse.</p> - -<p>The train drew up at the station in that slow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> drawling way in which -Irish trains mostly do in out-of-the-way places, and lo and behold -wherever Margot looked, she saw great bonfires and smiling faces and -there, as large as life, were Phinias Maloney and the wife also of -Phinias Maloney, and their two big "childer" and the infant who one -moment howled, and the next screeched with delight.</p> - -<p>"He really—he really came out of a cabbage leaf," said Margot. "He -wasn't hatched as lots them are here. The old-youngs are hatched so -often they are tired of the job. Oh, I must go and speak to that -darling baby! Uncle Jacko, hold Till's hand, I'll be back in a minute."</p> - -<p>Oh, but weren't the Maloneys glad—just beside themselves with joy—at -the thought of the pushkeen coming back to them again!</p> - -<p>"Ah, then,'tis yez that are welcome!" said Annie Maloney. "Childer, -spake to her beautiful mightiness, drop your curtsies as I taught ye. -There no, hould yezselves back. Ah, then, my push-keen lamb, it's me -that is glad to see ye. It's the heart hunger I had when ye left, -and long life to ye and to Mishter Mansfield, who has turned into a -beautiful gent, for all that he war but a farmer's son. It was me that -thought of the bonfires; do ye see them ablazing to the right of ye and -the left of ye, little missie asthore?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I do, I do! It was lovely of you, Annie," said Margot, and she kissed -the young woman, who whispered to her back somewhat shyly,</p> - -<p>"Is that child to '<i>himself</i>'?"</p> - -<p>Margot burst into one of her ringing laughs.</p> - -<p>"Child to my holy Uncle Jacko!" exclaimed Margot. "No, she's -<i>Reparation</i>, that's what she is. Don't keep me now, Annie, I'll come -to see you to-morrow or next day."</p> - -<p>Then Phinias, who intended to offer a very nervous paw for the little -girl to shake, but was rewarded by a hearty and most vigorous kiss, -lifted Missie and Reparation into the funny cart. The luggage was -lifted in also and they started off, bump, bump, uphill and down dale, -all the way to Desmondstown.</p> - -<p>Margot was almost too excited to speak. The clergyman walked beside -Phinias and kept talking to him, and each moment the road became ruddy -with more firelight and great shoots of flame rose up and filled the -air, for was not the furze dry and firm and were there not great stacks -of it, and did not gossoons keep putting fresh supplies on, all in -honour of missie asthore, the darling of The Desmond?</p> - -<p>Tilly, in her uncomfortable seat, felt very tired and half dropped -asleep, but Margot suggested that she should sit on one of the bags and -lean her head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> against Margot's own knee and, then, disgraceful as it -may sound, Tilly did drop asleep.</p> - -<p>But when they came to Desmondstown itself, there was such yelling -and waving and dancing and laughter—laughter so loud and yet so -clear—that even English Tilly could not sleep through it. And behold! -All the old-youngs were waiting at the gate to welcome them, and the -largest bonfires of all were alongside of the avenue, which Tilly -described afterwards to her English friends as a wall of fire.</p> - -<p>"It was done in honour of <i>us</i>," she wrote. "They know how to welcome -people properly in Ireland."</p> - -<p>But in addition to the bonfires, great arches had been flung up across -the weedy narrow path, and on these were written the well-known Irish -words, "<i>Céad míle fáilte</i>," which seemed to be to right and left of -little Margot; she knew well now the meaning of the generous and noble -words.</p> - -<p>Tilly was wide awake with a vengeance, and the old-youngs, both boys -and girls, ran down the avenue with whoops and cries and "<i>Céad míle -fáilte</i>, pushkeen," sounding from their lips.</p> - -<p>At last they reached the old porch and entered by the wide double oak -doors, and there, behold, stood Madam, and Fergus with his grave, -still face, and in the distance The Desmond was to be seen, holding a -lighted torch in his hand. Very erect indeed was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> The Desmond, and his -beard seemed longer and whiter than ever, and his eyes blacker and more -piercing, and his great stalwart form was like that of a giant.</p> - -<p>Margot flew like a little creature all on wires from Uncle Fergus to -Madam.</p> - -<p>"Madam, darling Madam," she said, "that's the girl, Till. Tell the -young-olds to look after her, for my heart is bursting till I get to -The Desmond." But when she did get to him the torch was extinguished, -and the very tall and majestic old man and the beautiful little girl -entered his special sanctum side by side.</p> - -<p>They were alone, they were together once more.</p> - -<p>Little did Margot think of anyone else in that moment of glad re-union.</p> - -<p>"I said I would come back, and I've come!" she said. "Oh grand-dad, oh, -grand-dad, how lovely you look! You are worth twenty of Monsieur le -Comte, mon grandpère in France."</p> - -<p>"Speak not of him, my child," said The Desmond. "I hate him with a -deadly hate."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, no!" said little Margot. "He means well and he can't help -being very old and feeble. You see, I had to bring Reparation with me."</p> - -<p>"Whatever does the pushkeen mean now?" said The Desmond. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That tall, ungainly English girl," said Margot. "I had to bring her, -she is Reparation."</p> - -<p>"That's as queer a name as ever I heard," said The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"But, grand-dad," said Margot, "you'll have to be getting in a -Reparation on your own account if you speak against <i>mon</i> grandpère of -France."</p> - -<p>"Ah, whist, let him abide," said the old man. "I care nothing so that -I have ye, my push-keen alanna. Ah, but let me look at ye, let me -feast my eyes on your little face! Ah, but ye are my pushkeen alanna! -No doubt on that, and here comes Madam,—here comes 'herself.' Madam, -we've got our child back, we've got our darling back once more!"</p> - -<p>But sweet, dainty little Madam looked disturbed.</p> - -<p>"There's a gurrl that I can't make head or tail of, she's crying out -for you, Margot asthore. I have set my three young daughters in their -bloom upon her, but she won't have naught to do with them. She keeps -screaming and screeching. You had best speak to her for a minute or -two, my little alanna."</p> - -<p>"May I go, grand-dad?" asked Margot. "It's only Reparation. I'll soon -put her right. Madam, stay with grand-dad and pet him awful. I know my -way and I'll smooth down Reparation as quick as a lightning flash. Pet -grand-dad a great lot, Madam, for, oh, he's such a darling!" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> - -<p>Little Margot whisked out of the room in her French frock and with a -trifle of her French manner.</p> - -<p>"Madam," said the old man, and he lifted up his voice and wept. "I've -lost her entirely, bedad! She's turned Frenchy on me, and what are we -to do with the gurrl she calls Reparation?"</p> - -<p>"She's herself the same as ever she was," said Madam, "sweet and true -and dear. Hold up your head, Fergus, man, and don't shame us with your -tears."</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Margot found her way to that part of the ramshackle old house -where the young-old aunts and the young-old uncles, with the exception -of Fergus, were doing their best with Tilly.</p> - -<p>Tilly was in floods of tears.</p> - -<p>"I want Margot, I want la Comtesse," she exclaimed, "and I don't see -any old-youngs. I only see the aged round me, the very aged. And I hate -the place without la Comtesse."</p> - -<p>"La, to be sure, there's no countess, here," said Norah, "and if we -young things ain't young enough for you, why ye'd best be going. Ye can -sleep in your bit of a bed to-night."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and in the morning I'll drive ye back to the station and put ye -in the thrain, so that ye can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> get to the place only fit for the likes -of you, and that's England," said Malachi.</p> - -<p>"I'd be ashamed to kick up a fluster in an Irish nobleman's house," -said Bruce, "but you English have no manners, none at all."</p> - -<p>Just then, Margot appeared on the scene.</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Tilly, making a rush at her.</p> - -<p>"I can't, Tilly, I can't, Reparation. I told you so when I invited you -here. I told you that I had to spend all my time with my grand-dad. I'm -ashamed of you, Till, that I am. You'd be frightened to death to sit in -the room with <i>himself</i>. He'd let out a yell at you if you sat in the -room with him and cried; you wouldn't do it twice, that I can tell you. -What more can you want than what's provided? Here's Aunt Norah, she's -beautiful and young; and here's Aunt Bride, she's hatched about every -second day; and here's dear Aunt Eileen, and they're all as young as -you, Till. As a matter of fact, their spirits are much, much younger. -And Uncle Bruce and Uncle Malachi are so funny; they'll make you laugh -all to fits. If you want to go home to-morrow, you can. I'm not wanting -you, but you are not to screech in this house."</p> - -<p>"Hello, here comes supper," said Bruce, as a huge joint of cold beef -was brought in, accompanied by a great dish of pickles and an enormous -platter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> of the very best potatoes, all bursting out of their skins and -showing balls of flour within.</p> - -<p>"Come and eat, Till, that's what you want," said Margot. "I must go -back to grand-dad, but I'll come to you by-and-bye in your room."</p> - -<p>Now the sight of the excellent food was certainly reviving to Matilda -Raynes and when Malachi offered to lead her to the festive board, doing -so with a succession of hops and skips and jumps, she suddenly found -herself bursting into fits of laughter.</p> - -<p>"Are you one of the old-youngs?" she managed to whisper to him.</p> - -<p>"I'm nothing, I'm only Malachi. I breed horses, that's what I do. Would -you like me to mount ye on one to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"I would," said Tilly, her eyes sparkling.</p> - -<p>"Then I will if ye stop that hullabaloo."</p> - -<p>"You'll hold me tight, for I've never rode in my life," said Tilly.</p> - -<p>"Ah, blessings on the girleen, but ye can learn for shure!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I can learn."</p> - -<p>"I expect you can. Norah, pour out a glass of milk for her. Biddy, -acushla, I'm ready for some of that home-brewed beer. Now then, babies -all, to supper!"</p> - -<p>The supper was so good and the old-young people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> were so merry that -Tilda forgot her fears. She longed inexpressibly for Margot and for -the refined life of the French school at Arles; but nevertheless there -were never any potatoes like these, and Malachi had such a twinkle in -his eye, and whenever she glanced at Bruce he winked back at her in the -most comforting way.</p> - -<p>Then Norah's and Bridget's mirth was irresistible; in short Tilly began -to enjoy herself, and when by-and-bye Margot crept into the room set -apart for Reparation, in which the young girl was lying sound asleep, -she felt comparatively happy about her.</p> - -<p>Margot was on her way to her own room, the dressing-room of The -Desmond, when she unexpectedly and to her intense joy met her beloved -Uncle Jacko. She stopped him at once. He put his arm round her and -kissed her.</p> - -<p>"Uncle Jacko, you are a holy priest, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"I'm a clergyman of the Church of England, my dear little girl."</p> - -<p>"Uncle Jacko, I had to bring Tilly here—I didn't want to, but -she—she's Reparation."</p> - -<p>"I don't understand you, my pet."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Uncle Jacko, I hadn't any opportunity to tell you when we were -coming here, and it was a long, a very long journey, and I <i>was</i> tired, -and Tilly was tired, and you were tired, but now, oh, I must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> tell you -in as few words as possible. Uncle Jacko, your own little Marguerite -told a black, black lie!"</p> - -<p>"You didn't," said Uncle Jacko, starting back as though something -pressed against his heart.</p> - -<p>"I did, it came about in this way. Madame la Comtesse told the Comte -St. Juste that she had given up her enormous <i>magasin</i>. She said -she had plenty of money without working any more and the Comte, -<i>mon</i> grandpère, he believed her. But she didn't give it up at all -in reality and she sent me there every day to sell hats and robes -to the customers, and at last some wicked girls in the school that -I went to—they had seen me in the shop—and they went and told -grandpère, <i>le pauvre</i> grandpère—and he fell down in a sort of fit, -and Madame was beside herself. But when he came to, I told him that -the <i>établissement</i> belonged to Madame Marcelle, and he grew happy -again and he forgave <i>ma pauvre</i> grand'mère. Oh, but it was terrible, -for I had told a black, black lie! Then I thought I would repair it -by bringing Tilly here and—I couldn't confess because I'm not a -Catholic—so that seemed the—the only thing to do. Oh, Uncle Jacko, -can you forgive me?"</p> - -<p>"Have you asked God to forgive you, my little child? I am a sinful -man, but He—He is perfect. It was a difficult time for you, my little -Margot, but you must on no account disturb The Desmond. Say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> nothing to -him about the shop. You have three months to spend with him, and when I -come to fetch you back to Arles, we can talk further on this matter."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Uncle Jacko, you <i>are</i> good—you <i>are</i> good, and you won't cease -to love me?"</p> - -<p>"I shall never do that, my sweet babe."</p> - -<p>"And you will stay here for a couple of days, won't you?"</p> - -<p>"I will stay here till Monday," said the clergyman, "and I will do my -very utmost to make Tilly happy. Now that I understand why she has come -I can manage her. Good-night, sleep well, my little one."</p> - -<p>Margot did sleep well on her soft bed. The big, untidy room had been -changed and altogether altered. Malachi had papered the walls white. -Norah and Bridget had painted the doors a bright emerald green. There -was a little bedstead with white muslin draperies put all ready for the -child to sleep in, and there was a writing table in the window, and a -chest of drawers which had been bought as a bargain by Phinias by the -express orders of Malachi. Then there was a deep cupboard in the wall -in which the dainty and innumerable little French frocks could be hung.</p> - -<p>But when Margot awoke the next morning,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> flushed with sleep, safe and -happy, little knowing that Madam and The Desmond had been gazing at -her at the dawn of day, she discovered in a deep corner of that same -cupboard an ugly little frock, which had been made for her before she -came to Desmondstown.</p> - -<p>It was a frock made in the ugliest imaginable style by a dressmaker -chosen by Aunt Priscilla. Nevertheless it was the dress she had worn -when first The Desmond had seen his little grandchild. Without a -moment's hesitation she put it on.</p> - -<p>Bruce and Malachi had brought her in a hot bath in one of the famous -washing tubs; and clean and refreshed, she rushed downstairs to kiss -grand-dad. He was in his accustomed place by the great turf fire, -and he stared first at the little frock and then at the happy child. -Suddenly a cloud seemed to lift from his brow. He opened his big arms -wide and folded her into them and said,</p> - -<p>"Ah, but the Almighty be praised! I have got you back again, my bit -thing. I didn't half know you last night dressed up as a Frenchy."</p> - -<p>"I'm an Irishy to-day grand-dad," said Margot with her merry laugh.</p> - -<p>"So you are, my bit mavourneen, so you are, the Lord be praised for all -his mercies!"</p> - -<p>Now Margot had been given by Madame Marcelle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> on the last day of her -appearance at her <i>établissement</i> five hundred francs, which meant the -solid sum of twenty pounds. And as her grandmother, Madame, paid all -her expenses to England, in fact, beyond England, to Desmondstown, she -had this twenty pounds intact. Her first idea had been to buy pretty -things to take to the old-youngs and to the dear old-olds in Paris, but -an instinct kept her back from doing this and finally she made up her -mind to consult Uncle Fergus on the subject.</p> - -<p>Uncle Fergus was very reliable. He would tell her what the beloved -family at Desmondstown wanted most.</p> - -<p>Matilda Raynes had got over her nervous terrors of the night before, -and enjoyed beyond words playing horses with the old-young aunts. She -was therefore quite off Margot's mind and Margot determined while Uncle -Jacko was talking to The Desmond, to seek an interview with Uncle -Fergus.</p> - -<p>She found him in the great front courtyard. He looked anxious and -even when he saw Margot hardly smiled, but when she ran up to him and -slipped her hand into his, he said, "Presently, pushkeen, presently."</p> - -<p>He then went on giving his orders to the men, but he felt all the -time the soft little warm hand in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> as though it were something -unsurpassably delightful.</p> - -<p>"Well, pushkeen," he said at last.</p> - -<p>Pushkeen unfolded her simple story. She had an enormous lot of money, -twenty solid pounds, no less, that she wanted to devote to the dearest -family in the world—the Desmonds. Would Uncle Fergus teach her how to -spend it? There came a flash in the dark eyes of the future Desmond of -Desmondstown.</p> - -<p>"Tell me, little one," he said, "is it true that that Frenchwoman -really keeps a shop? She told John Mansfield and he told me, so you -needn't fear to confide in me."</p> - -<p>"I won't, Uncle Fergus, I won't. Now I'm sure the shop is hers. As you -know so much, you may as well know more. I went every day to sell goods -in it, and that's why I have got my twenty pounds."</p> - -<p>"And you work, while I am idle, little pushkeen," said Fergus Desmond.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't mind—I—I like it," said little Margot.</p> - -<p>"But it can't be any longer," said Fergus Desmond. "Put that twenty -pounds into the ground at Desmondstown, pushkeen."</p> - -<p>"Bury it?" said Margot with a look of horror.</p> - -<p>"In a sort of way, bury it," said Fergus. "The old fruit trees are worn -out, we'll buy new ones, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> and I, and I'll turn into a real son of -the soil, and the fruit trees will bring forth fruit and we'll sell -them, you and I, pushkeen. It will be a joint concern between us. I'll -do the work and I'll give you so much interest on the money. Now, not -a word to The Desmond, not a word. We'll turn this rich piece of land -into a beautiful thriving fruit garden, and I'll buy the young trees at -once and you'll watch me while I'm making the desert blossom as a rose."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Uncle Fergus, you are splendid!" said the child.</p> - -<p>"Don't you fear but you'll get your money back and more," said Uncle -Fergus. "I'm off to-day to get the young trees. I know where I can get -them cheap."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIII.</span> <span class="smaller">THE PINES.</span></h2> - -<p>Now there dawned an apparently very happy time in the life of little -Margot St. Juste. Her whole heart was full of love, and with love -was also a keen interest for the Desmonds of Desmondstown. Of course -grand-dad, <i>the</i> grand-dad, came first, but next to him was Uncle -Fergus. As they talked together over the trees they were planting, and -the fruit that would come to perfection from the same trees, the little -girl rejoiced at the thought that her small efforts were bringing -comfort and riches to the home of her ancestors.</p> - -<p>In short, whenever she was not with grand-dad, she was with Uncle -Fergus, who threw himself into his work as indeed a son of the -soil. It was amazing to see this fine-looking man digging, delving, -ploughing, arranging. He also got Phinias Maloney to assist him, and -in an incredibly short space of time the brick wall was built and the -tiny trees planted, which were to bring forth such a rich harvest -by-and-bye. Then Margot suggested strawberries and Uncle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> Fergus made -a strawberry plot. Then she suggested raspberries and gooseberries, to -say nothing of various sorts of roses, little bush roses which would go -on flowering during the greater part of the year.</p> - -<p>Whatever Margot suggested, Fergus obeyed. He had not been so happy -since he had left Old Trinity. Margot called herself his assistant -gardener, and The Desmond came out now and then to watch the pair with -pride.</p> - -<p>"Wherever does the avick get the money, Madam?" he said more than once.</p> - -<p>But Madam would only shake her head and say they might safely leave it -in the hands of Fergus.</p> - -<p>The Desmond happened to make this remark one day at the mid-day meal -and in the presence of Reparation. Reparation was going back to England -in a couple of days now. She dreaded the thought beyond words. What -was grand-dad going to do when he was left to the complete wiles -of the little Comtesse? She dreaded "grand-dad," as she called him -privately to herself, inexpressibly. She wouldn't dare utter a word in -his presence. As to The Desmond, he hardly ever gave the bit colleen a -thought. She was welcome to stay in the old house if she didn't bother -him, but Margot was equally determined that Reparation should go.</p> - -<p>She was not thoroughly happy with her about.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> As a matter of fact she -was not sure of her. There was a light which she could by no means -admire or trust in the small, light-blue eyes of Tilly of England. In -short, she avoided her as much as possible, but Tilly was completely -taken up with young Aunt Norah and young Aunt Bridget, whom she called -by their Christian names, and said that they looked a lot younger than -herself.</p> - -<p>"I'm fourteen," she said, "but you—you are only kittens!"</p> - -<p>Now nothing could please the Misses Desmond more than to be compared to -kittens, and they petted Tilly when she talked to them in this strain, -and thoroughly believed her. But Tilly had her own object in view. She -did not want to leave Desmondstown, and said that she thought the best -possible thing she could do would be to explain certain matters to -The Desmond. These matters would of course relate to Margot and would -require a great deal of courage.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless she believed she might manage it and as the days flew by -and as the time of her departure approached, so the more strongly did -she make up her mind to the final and great step.</p> - -<p>Now Malachi was a man of his word. For that matter all the Desmonds -were truthful. Malachi had promised to teach Tilly to ride, and he took -her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> out on a broken-down old mare, a creature so feeble and slow that -the timidest person could not fear when seated on her back.</p> - -<p>Tilly bore with the mare for a few days, but then she became -discontented. She saw Norah and Bridget fly by on thoroughbreds of -rare spirit. They bounded over hedges and gates and ditches, they -seemed to tread the very air. Tilly got jealous of them and also became -exceedingly tired of her slow old mare.</p> - -<p>There happened to be a horse in the stable, a young and exquisite -creature whom Malachi was taking special care of. He was a thoroughbred -from Donegal, and was not yet quite broken in, but every day Malachi -put on a sort of skirt and rode sideways on the spirited and lovely -creature, and gradually brought the horse into training. He obeyed -Malachi's slightest touch. He was of a deep chestnut in tone with a -white star on his forehead. His points were perfect, and Malachi was -teaching him, as he expressed it, "to 'lep' over everything, so that he -might be fit for the hunting when it began."</p> - -<p>One day he brought the horse "Starlight" home covered with foam and -somewhat disturbed in his temper.</p> - -<p>"There now, old boy," said Malachi, "you'll have your feed of the -whitest of white oats, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> be ready for another try over that wide -ditch to-morrow."</p> - -<p>Malachi, as was his custom, spoke his words aloud. He was busy all the -time washing down and rubbing the beautiful creature. He then took him -to his stall, and said, "Good old boy, dear old boy! You'll be fit for -that very wide ditch to-morrow. You funked it a bit to-day but you -won't ever again. How then, eat, my mannikin, eat."</p> - -<p>"That's a lovely horse," said Reparation standing at the door.</p> - -<p>Malachi gave a start when he saw the ugly little girl.</p> - -<p>"To be sure he's a jewel, no less," was his instant rejoinder.</p> - -<p>"I'd like well to ride him, Malachi," said Reparation. "I'm tired of -the old mare. She's so slow—she only crawls. I want to fly like Norah -and Bridget and you on Starlight. May I ride Starlight to-morrow, -Malachi?"</p> - -<p>"May you!" exclaimed Malachi. "Do I want to see yourself broken into -little bits? You keep away from this horse. He's not for you."</p> - -<p>"But why not?" asked Tilly, coming into the stable now and approaching -close to the animal.</p> - -<p>"Keep back, if you want to keep your features,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> said Malachi. "He'll -kick out if he looks at you, as sure as my name is Malachi Desmond."</p> - -<p>"Why should he, Malachi?" but Tilly stepped back a pace or two as she -spoke. "Why shouldn't I ride Starlight? What are you keeping him for? -And you do look such a figure of fun, Malachi, dressed like an old -woman with a skirt over you."</p> - -<p>"I'm training the horse for my niece," said Malachi. "He'll be ready -for her long before she goes back to that place in France, drat it! -There now, you'll never manage more than the mare, Tilly, and I can't -stand talking to you any more. Be off and play with the gurrls. They've -come in from their ride, and I am sure they are willing enough to amuse -you."</p> - -<p>"Take my hand for one minute, Malachi," said Tilly.</p> - -<p>Malachi with extreme unwillingness complied and led the little girl out -of the stables. He shut the door behind Starlight, who was enjoying his -oats and feeling soothed and comfortable. He did not like his training -at all, but afterwards there always came the wash down and the rub down -and the delicious tender white oats, and he couldn't unseat Malachi, -try as he would.</p> - -<p>"Is that beautiful horse really for the shopkeeper?" inquired Tilly. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It's for no shopkeeper. What on earth do ye mean? It's for my niece, -the pushkeen; and I've saved up and sent for an elegant habit for her -to Cork. It will arrive any day now. There, I can't talk to ye any -more, ye are so downright foolish."</p> - -<p>"Come and play horses with us, Till," said Norah, who appeared at that -moment.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact Norah had been standing in the vicinity of -Starlight's stable for the last few minutes, and certain words uttered -by Tilly had aroused her curiosity.</p> - -<p>"Why ever did ye go ballyragging Malachi?" she exclaimed. "He's not a -boy to be put out when he's over the horses. Leave him to himself and -come with me. Biddy and I and the curate, Mr. Flannigan, are going to -have a jolly play."</p> - -<p>"I'm willing to come," said Till.</p> - -<p>"Well, you must be prepared to run, while the others follow. I say, -Till, whatever nonsense did you talk to Malachi about the pushkeen's -horse?"</p> - -<p>"I said it wasn't a horse fit for a shopkeeper," replied Tilly.</p> - -<p>"Well, and whoever said it was? It is for the pushkeen, the sweetest -pet in the world. Why, me old father, he is fit to devour her with -love."</p> - -<p>"For all that she is the shopkeeper," said Tilly. "She keeps a shop at -Arles. She goes to the shop;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> every day of her life, when there, and -sells things and calls herself <i>la petite</i> Comtesse, and they all buy -from her, more especially the farmers' wives, and she puts on the price -like anything. She's a real, real shopkeeper, but I can't see why she -should get a beautiful horse like Starlight, and I should have nothing -but a stupid old mare who will hardly stir her stumps. You come in, -Norah, flying over every obstacle, and there's that beauty being got -ready for the pushkeen as you call her. But I know what she is—the -shopkeeper of Arles."</p> - -<p>"I don't believe it for a single moment," said Norah, but her pretty -old-young face turned a little white. "Look here, Till," she said. -"You keep that bit of gossip safe in your breast and don't let it out -for the Lord's sake, or there'll be a hue and a cry. There now, you -understand what I mean. There's no sense in it. My word! A daughter of -the Desmonds a shopkeeper! Get out with you and don't be such a fool!"</p> - -<p>"I'm not a fool and I know who I'll tell it to," said Till, who was -now bursting with rage. She had only two more days at delightful -Desmondstown. Little it mattered to her that the house was half bare, -that the food was a trifle coarse. Was there not life in the place, -and nobody scolded, and no one was cross? She did not want to go. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> -would get that old man Desmond to let her stay a good bit longer. -Why should Margot, who kept a shop, have everything and she, Matilda -Raynes, have nothing but the use of an old mare? And she must go back, -oh, in a couple of days now, to her dreadful stepmother and her cross, -cross father. But, but she would have her revenge first. She did not -care what happened if only she had her revenge.</p> - -<p>While the old-youngs and Mr. Flannigan and Tilly were playing the -celebrated game of "Puss in the Corner," Malachi, his face all alight -with joy, entered his father's sanctum.</p> - -<p>Little Margot had been helping Fergus with the making of the beautiful -new fruit garden, but her toils were over for the present, and she was -sitting on grand-dad's knee; wrapped up, in short, in grand-dad, as -though she was part of him. Her beautiful soft, jet-black hair made -a vivid contrast to his white beard. She lay back comfortably in his -arms, almost too happy to speak. She felt as though she was indeed part -of him, he belonged to her. She was his very own.</p> - -<p>Madam, as usual, was crocheting in the distant window. No one took much -outward notice of the sweet little Madam, but then she was the very -person whom her sons and daughters, and her old <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>husband adored. And -little Margot loved her, also, although not quite so much as she loved -The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"To be sure, it must be just as you wish, pushkeen," said the old man, -and just at that moment Malachi, with his smiling, handsome face, -entered the room.</p> - -<p>"What are you up to now, Malachi?" said the old man.</p> - -<p>"Starlight is quite broken in for gentle exercise," he said. "I -wouldn't trust him yet for great gaps or ditches, but he'd be safe, -quite safe, for the pushkeen to ride on the highroad, and I'll ride -beside her on Brian the Brave. I've come to tell you this, pushkeen. -The horse is ready, Starlight is ready. I took a good bit out of her -this morning, and your habit has come from Cork, as well as the saddle. -You'll look elegant—that's the only word for it—mounted on Starlight -with me alongside of you. We might go for a ride after dinner. I've -taken some of the nonsense out of Starlight this morning. He'll be as -easy as a bit of silk to manage after we have had our early dinner."</p> - -<p>"To be sure, that's fine news," said The Desmond, "but you must take -precious care of my little treasure, Malachi."</p> - -<p>"To be sure and that I will. You can trust me," said Malachi. "We'll go -soft and easy along the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> highroad and pushkeen can call and see Annie -Maloney and her childer."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I <i>would</i> like it, grand-dad," said Margot, raising her dear, -bright little face.</p> - -<p>"To be sure you would," said The Desmond. "I suppose the <i>King of all -the Desmonds</i> is a bit stale for me to mount, Malachi."</p> - -<p>"He's a bit old, father, but there's good blood in him still. You sit -easy by the fire with little Madam, and I'll take pushkeen for her -first ride on Starlight alone—we can talk about your riding the <i>King -of the Desmonds</i> later."</p> - -<p>The habit was a very pretty one of dark blue cloth, and there was a -little soft crimson cap with a long tassel for the pushkeen to put over -her jet-black hair. Nothing could be more altogether becoming, and the -child's total absence of fear communicated itself to the high-spirited -horse, who led her bravely up hill and down dale, Malachi riding beside -her on Brian the Brave.</p> - -<p>Oh, never was there anything quite so delightful as that ride to the -little pushkeen, and little, little did she suspect that her happy -days at Desmondstown were coming so quickly to an end. She could dance -by nature and she could ride by nature. What Desmond had ever funked -a horse? And this child surely was a true Desmond, a chip of the old -block.</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i207.jpg" id="i207.jpg"></a><img src="images/i207.jpg" alt="Never was there anything quite so delightful" /></div> - -<p class="bold">Never was there anything quite so delightful as that<br /> -ride.—<a href="#Page_207"><i>Page 207.</i></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> - -<p>The old-youngs and Mr. Flannigan were enjoying themselves at special -games on the back lawn when little Margot flashed by in her new dark -blue habit with her crimson cap and tassel. She came up quite close to -the gate, but pulled in Starlight at a word from Malachi, and then the -two horses and the man and the girl disappeared up the highroad.</p> - -<p>"Isn't she a purty little thing?" said Flannigan.</p> - -<p>Tilly felt a sense of madness coming over her. Now was her -opportunity—now—now or never. She slipped away from the old-youngs -and softly unhasping the door of The Desmond's sanctum entered and -stood before him, her hands folded, her heart beating fast.</p> - -<p>The Desmond was gently going off into the land of dreams and Madam was -motioning to Till to leave the room, but Till's chance had come and she -would not lose it.</p> - -<p>"I want to speak," she said. "I want to speak to The Desmond. I won't -keep him long. He can grant my request and then nothing need be done, -or he can refuse it and then, behold, consider the fruit trees of all -sorts, the strawberry beds, the raspberry canes, the roses!"</p> - -<p>"Who is talking, who is bothering me entirely?" exclaimed The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"I don't want to bother you, sir," said Tilly, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>although she had such a -queer trembling in her limbs that she never exactly knew the meaning of -gooseflesh before.</p> - -<p>"Oh you are Till Raynes," said the old man. "I couldn't get at the back -of your name for a minute. What do ye want, alanna? I'm sleepy and I -want to doze. I want to doze while my pushkeen is out."</p> - -<p>"Oh, do you indeed?" said Tilly, who, as is often the case, got less -nervous as the time went on.</p> - -<p>The old man raised his jet-black eyes and looked at the girl.</p> - -<p>"What do ye want, young English miss?" he said. He looked very severe -and very stately.</p> - -<p>Tilly's voice began to choke a little.</p> - -<p>"You are The Desmond," she said.</p> - -<p>"I'm that, who doubts it?"</p> - -<p>"I don't, sir; only you, you frighten me a bit, and I don't like to see -you deceived."</p> - -<p>"Arrah, then, get out of this!" said The Desmond. "Play with the young -gurrls and don't keep botherin' me."</p> - -<p>"I will, in one minute; I will, really, only I have something dreadful -to tell you."</p> - -<p>"Not about my pushkeen? God Almighty help us, not about my pushkeen!"</p> - -<p>"Listen to me, sir," said Tilly. "May I stay here as long as your -pushkeen stays, and may I ride<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> Starlight every second day? If you say -yes to those two things sir, everything will be right and you'll never, -never <i>know</i>."</p> - -<p>The Desmond rose slowly and ponderously from his chair.</p> - -<p>"What are ye after at all, colleen?" he said. "The pushkeen herself -says ye are to go in two days and her wishes are to be first considered -in this house."</p> - -<p>"Oh, are they?" said Tilly, her face almost black with rage, "then I'll -tell—I'll tell!"</p> - -<p>"You'll tell nothing, Tilly Raynes," said Madam, coming up in her soft -and sweet way; and, taking the girl out of the room, she closed the -door between her and The Desmond. "Now you behave yourself while you -are here," she said. "Himself is not to be worried. You understand that -clear and cool. Go back and play with my daughters. You can't hurt our -pushkeen nor The Desmond himself for all your trying."</p> - -<p>Tilly was terribly disappointed. What with the ferocity of The Desmond -and the calm, cool firmness of Madam, she had not a chance to get -out those hateful words, but she would punish pushkeen yet, yes she -would. She did not go back to join the others but sitting in the porch, -thought and thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> out her system of revenge. Presently came the -sound of horses' feet tramping down the avenue.</p> - -<p>Little Margot leaped to the ground as light as a feather, a groom -sprang into view and Margot went straight up to Tilly.</p> - -<p>"Why aren't you with the others?" she said. "Oh, I have had a glorious -ride!"</p> - -<p>"You are a nasty, mean, deceitful thing," said Tilly. "They would have -kept me on here but for you, and I just downright hate you."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Tilly, you oughtn't," said Margot. "What have I done to you?"</p> - -<p>"Done! You've done enough in all conscience. You get everything, I -get nothing; and when I went and spoke to The Desmond about staying -a little longer, he said you didn't wish it—you, forsooth! I must -ride that doddering old mare, and you must have that beautiful horse -Starlight. You must have everything and I must have nothing. But I'll -revenge myself on you yet, see if I don't!"</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry, Tilly," said Margot, in her sweet voice, "but I do think -you ought to go back home on Thursday. You have been with us for three -weeks and we have all tried to give you a good time."</p> - -<p>"You haven't, so don't think it," said Tilly.</p> - -<p>"Well, I did my best. I told you I should have to spend most of the -time with my grand-dad, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> the people and the place here do belong to -me, Tilly, and they don't to you. I'm very, very sorry, but I do think -you ought to go home. I wouldn't say it, indeed I wouldn't, if I didn't -most truly think it. You'll have been here three weeks on Thursday, and -that's a good long time, Tilly, now isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"I'll have my revenge, I vow I will," said Tilly.</p> - -<p>"I don't know what you can do, but you must just act as you please," -said Margot in a very sad voice. "I did want to make you happy, I did -most truly, but what was I to do? You wouldn't be happy, try as I -would. You can't ride like a Desmond; it isn't in you."</p> - -<p>"Little shopkeeper, don't talk any more," said Tilly, and she dashed -out of sight, crying as she went.</p> - -<p>How it so happened that while Matilda Raynes was planning out her -revenge with a certain amount of skill, little Margot had taken off her -habit and was seated in her favourite place on her grandfather's knee. -He told her a little about the troublesome girl, and Margot begged of -him not to mind, for it was only her way and she was soon going.</p> - -<p>"Thank the Lord for that," said The Desmond. "I'd have let her stay, -but you put your own big foot down, pushkeen."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, grand-dad, it is time she went home.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> I'm sorry for her, -rather, but she's not—not very nice, I mean."</p> - -<p>"She's not nice at all," said The Desmond. "She's a common little brat. -What sort of school was that they sent you to, light of my eyes? How -did you come by her sort entirely?"</p> - -<p>"I couldn't help it, grand-dad; she was at the school. Shall I tell you -about my ride on Starlight?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, do, to be sure. It's real pretty, to hear your sweet voice."</p> - -<p>So Margot talked and the old man asked questions. He asked innumerable -questions and Margot showed that she was a true Desmond by her replies. -Meanwhile Tilly, her heart set on revenge, was creeping nearer and -nearer to the stables and the beautiful new loose box which had all -been arranged for the comfort of Starlight. There, in a certain corner -hung the new saddle, which had just arrived from Cork.</p> - -<p>Malachi was having a gentle snooze in a corner of the stall, but he -was fond of calling himself a cat who invariably slept with one eye -open. Tilly had not the least idea that he was there, but he saw her -all the time. She thought herself quite alone with the exception of -Starlight and the new saddle. She did not guess even for a moment that -Malachi had opened that one eye of his very wide; in fact, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> he -had opened both eyes. Tilly produced out of her pocket a pincushion, -which contained pins of different sorts and degrees. These she cleverly -inserted in the lining of the new saddle.</p> - -<p>Malachi watched her, his eyes twinkling. She put the saddle back in -its place, but did not do it well, for the saddle fell. Nevertheless, -Malachi did not stir. Tilly now rushed out of the stable. Her revenge -was in sure progress of beginning and acting well. When she was quite -out of sight, Malachi rose, picked up the saddle, which was bristling -with pins, and removed all of them except one. This he left in, placing -it carefully and with skill in such a position that whoever rode on -Starlight would drive the obnoxious pin a little way into the animal's -hide. He very carefully folded up the rest of the pins in a piece of -paper, slipped them into his vest pocket and entered the house. During -the whole of that evening he was in the highest spirits and laid -himself out to entertain Tilly.</p> - -<p>The next morning he went to his father and said that as this was the -very last day that Tilly Raynes would spend with them she might as -well have a little bit of a ride on Starlight. His face was all over -twinkles as he made the request.</p> - -<p>"It won't do the beastie any harm," he said, "and pushkeen will lend -Tilly her habit." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Of course I will," said pushkeen, who was feeling a little bad at -Tilly's cruel words.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, at breakfast time, Malachi turned to Tilly, told her that -he had been considering matters, and did not see why she should not -ride quite as well as the pushkeen, and if she liked he would take her -out that morning on the pushkeen's thoroughbred, the pushkeen lending -her her habit and he riding beside her on Brian the Brave.</p> - -<p>"Oh, but, but will you really!" exclaimed Tilly, then she remembered -the pins and became very grave and distrait.</p> - -<p>"Please, Malachi," said Tilly, "may I run round to the stables first? I -want to look at Starlight before I mount him."</p> - -<p>"And what would ail ye not to?" said Malachi.</p> - -<p>Tilly rushed as fast as she could to the stables, entered the one -containing Starlight and taking down the new side-saddle began to -search for the pins, but Malachi had been too clever for Till, for he -had placed the one pin in such a way that it would soon begin to annoy -Starlight and in such a position that Tilly could not find it.</p> - -<p>She came back to the house in the highest spirits for her ride. Someone -had removed the pins; she was quite safe. She would show the Irish -Margot what riding really meant.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIV.</span> <span class="smaller">STARLIGHT AND TILLY.</span></h2> - -<p>Tilly felt very proud of herself when she put on Margot's smart little -dark-blue habit, and although the crimson cap certainly did not look as -well on her nondescript sort of hair as it had done on Margot's, she -imagined that it did, which comes after all to the same thing.</p> - -<p>Malachi was in the best of spirits, his face was all twinkles and light -and laughter. His sisters accompanied him as he brought Starlight and -Brian the Brave round to the mounting block.</p> - -<p>"You are kind, you <i>are</i> kind," said Tilly, trying to show some of her -gratitude in her face.</p> - -<p>"Ah, to be sure, why wouldn't I?" said Malachi. "Here, spring up, -missie, you must be quick, for he's a thoroughbred, remember, he's not -like the old mare, but when we get him right under way and you show no -fear, which of course you haven't got, we'll have a fine spin together -on the King's highroad."</p> - -<p>Matilda felt altogether uplifted, as she expressed it. The awful pins -had been in some mysterious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> way removed. Who had done it? One of the -grooms, she supposed, and yet there was malicious laughter in Malachi's -bright dark eyes.</p> - -<p>"Now then, no time to lose," he said. "Stand back, gurrls, both of -you, you'll have your rides this afternoon, but it is fair enough that -missie should have her turn on this her last day and she so brave—my -word, so wonderful brave! Now then, put your foot on my hand, stand on -this block and spring."</p> - -<p>Tilly, very much excited because of the new habit, highly pleased at -having got the victory, feeling quite sure that she could outdo Margot -in the art of riding, sprang into her saddle in her somewhat awkward -fashion.</p> - -<p>Starlight looked askance with almost a wicked look in his eye at the -creature on his back. Notwithstanding the habit and the red cap, she -was not Margot. She did not know how to sit on him comfortably. He -began to feel a sense of annoyance and a great desire to get rid of -her, but Malachi whistled to him softly, somewhat as a thrush whistles -to her young. Ah, well, he understood <i>that</i> note. He settled down to -endure and do his best.</p> - -<p>He thought, in his dear horsey mind, how very easily he could pitch -the thing that he didn't like off his back and get rid of her forever -when they reached the wide ditch. He did not object to trying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> the wide -ditch this morning, anything to get rid of the thing on his back.</p> - -<p>Tilly, for a moment, felt inclined to scream.</p> - -<p>"Don't let out any noise for the Lord's sake," said Malachi. "You'll -set him off if you do and when he does go, it is like a lightning -flash, I can tell you. You say you are brave, prove it! Ah, that's -better. Hold yourself erect, but for the Lord's sake don't keep the -reins so tight. You don't want to strangle the creature. Sit easy, -for Heaven's sake, just as though you were part of Starlight and he -was part of you. That's the way to ride. That's the way pushkeen rode -yesterday."</p> - -<p>They had passed the tumble-down gate by this time and Tilly had partly -recovered her courage.</p> - -<p>"I can ride better than la Comtesse," she said. "I have had far more -experience."</p> - -<p>"Have ye now? Ye weren't born a Desmond, by any chance?"</p> - -<p>"No, I'm a Raynes. The Rayneses are——"</p> - -<p>"You needn't tell me," said Malachi. "They are the finest family in -the whole of England. They can skim the air on a horse's back like a -bit of a bird. Once you put'em on, you can't get'em off. Those are the -Rayneses for you. I know the breed, otherwise I wouldn't have mounted -you on pushkeen's thoroughbred." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why do you call her pushkeen? It is a very ugly name. She's nothing -whatever but a little French shopgirl. I told you so my own self, -Malachi."</p> - -<p>"Did ye now? Well, ye see I wasn't listening. I never listen to -untruths."</p> - -<p>"But this isn't an untruth. Oh, my, Malachi—I'm—I'm frightened!"</p> - -<p>"Whatever are ye frightened about, Miss Raynes of England? Maybe as you -are so uncommon brave, we might try a bit of cross-country riding. Why -there you are again, jumping like anything. Whatever has come to ye? It -seems to me you are a sort of cuckoo in the nest of the Rayneses."</p> - -<p>"I'm not, indeed I'm not. But he does jump so. See, look for yourself. -Oh, please, Malachi, hold him. He doesn't like me; he's got a wicked -sort of spirit in him."</p> - -<p>"Maybe his saddle isn't easy," said Malachi. "You sit still and I'll -settle it. For the Lord's sake don't let him think you are afraid of -him or you are done, done black and blue."</p> - -<p>Malachi slipped off Brian the Brave and without in the least disturbing -Tilly managed to push the pin a little further out so that it might -work a surer and a graver mischief.</p> - -<p>"Now we are all right," he said, jumping on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> own gallant steed. "Go -it Starlight, old boy, why it's one of the Rayneses you have got on -your back. Think of that, Starlight, old chap!"</p> - -<p>Starlight certainly did think of it and thought of it with growing -passion and indignation. The pin had now thoroughly worked its way -through his satiny hide and he was altogether beside himself with rage.</p> - -<p>Just then an old-fashioned lumbering motor car came by. This was the -finish to Starlight. He reared upright, bolt upright in the air, shook -Tilly off him as though she was a fly, left her sitting on the road -and immediately relieved from his burden began to munch some delicious -green grass from the roadside.</p> - -<p>"I'm killed, Malachi, I'm killed," sobbed Tilly.</p> - -<p>"Well, to be sure, are you now?" said Malachi. "I'm thinking perhaps -'twas a pin. I don't think you are killed, but you might have been if I -hadn't let you down soft. I took all the pins out, I thought."</p> - -<p>"What pins?" said Tilly, turning very white.</p> - -<p>"What pins! Oh, but ye are a nasty little beggar; didn't I watch you -when ye were sticking them all over the inside of the saddle yesterday? -Ye didn't guess I was having a snooze in the loose box. I often sleep -there when I'm partial to the beasts. Well, to be sure, I put the pins -in a packet. Here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> they are, you can look at them. How many do you -reckon you put in?"</p> - -<p>"I don't remember—oh, none! Don't scold me, Malachi!"</p> - -<p>"Don't scold ye, ye little liar!"</p> - -<p>"Malachi, I tell you I am dying, I am going to faint, I know I am."</p> - -<p>"Well, faint away, colleen, it doesn't matter to me!"</p> - -<p>This remarkable announcement on the part of Malachi had also a -remarkable effect in restoring Tilly's nerves. It was no use to faint -if nobody cared. How dreadful Tilly felt, how sore and bruised and -broken.</p> - -<p>Malachi led the two horses to the nearest tree, and fastened them there -with a piece of rope, which he always kept handy in his pocket. He then -proceeded to unfasten Starlight's saddle and to remove the obnoxious -pin. It was a black pin, deep and strong, and it had already made a -decided mark on the satin coat of the lovely horse.</p> - -<p>"Now how came <i>this</i> here, to be sure?" said he, going over to Tilly. -"I must have missed this, to be sure I did. And here are the others. -We will put them all together. Ten pins. Upon my word, it's a goodly -number. I want you to make a present of 'em, Tilly." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> - -<p>"A present?" answered the girl, raising her white and terrified face.</p> - -<p>"Yes, to be sure, a present to The Desmond, and you are to tell him -why you put them in, and you are to do it at dinner to-day with the -pushkeen looking at you. You are not hurt a bit, no, not a bit. You are -shook up, whereas you deserved to die, and you may be thankful you are -let off so easy. I'm thinking that after you have told the true story -of the pins, the story of the shop will go in one ear and out of the -other, so far as The Desmond is concerned. The Rayneses may be fine -riders—I'm not taking from their merits, not I—but they are black big -liars, too, that I can swear by. Now then, get up, I'll mount ye on -Starlight. He'll go as easy as a lamb now that that black horror isn't -pricking him to death. We'll just get back in time for lunch."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Malachi, I—I can't mount that horse again. He fairly terrifies -me, and as to that story you want me to tell about the pins, do you -think I'd disgrace myself before your father, and me so frightened of -him?"</p> - -<p>"Very well, Tilly, you can keep silent and I'll tell. But he's got to -know."</p> - -<p>"It isn't true, it isn't true," wailed Tilly.</p> - -<p>"Whist, for the Lord's sake, don't let out any more black ones. Did ye -ever see a cat asleep?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why, yes, Malachi, I suppose I have."</p> - -<p>"Have you got a cat at your home?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my stepmother has a cat."</p> - -<p>"Well, you watch it the next time it dozes, then you'll learn once and -forever how a cat sleeps, with one eye half open, never more, never -less. Well that eye is on, we'll call it the alert, for mice or birds -or any kind of prey. I was lying like the cat, with my one eye open, -when I saw you come along. Soon, from being half opened, it was whole -opened, and the other eye was opened, too, and I saw ye sticking in the -pins. So ye can't get out of it, Tilly Raynes from England. Very badly -ye did your job, very badly, entirely, but when ye left the stables, I -crept out all choking with laughter and I thought I'd punish ye after -all. I took out nine of the pins altogether, for one properly managed -could do the job better than your ten, anyhow. Then I palavered ye a -bit and got ye to ride on Starlight. I meant it as a punishment and the -punishment will end when ye have confessed the truth, the whole truth, -and nothing but the truth to The Desmond and made him a present of the -ten pins. You thought you'd kill his pushkeen because you were mad with -jealousy. Well, now you have just got to do what I say and no bones -about it whatsomdever!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Malachi, oh, Malachi, I can't." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But I say ye can! I'll keep the pins till the minute arrives, and as -ye won't mount Starlight, I must walk the two horses home. We are a -good bit out and we'd best start at once. You keep in front of me, for -I'm not going to lose sight of ye, not for a moment. Now, then, Till -Raynes of England, march is the word!"</p> - -<p>It was a very miserable, draggled little girl, with a white face -considerably scratched from her fall, who arrived at Desmondstown just -as the stable clock struck one. Malachi gave the horses over to his own -special groom and followed Tilly to her bedroom.</p> - -<p>"I'll be standing outside the door waiting for you," he said. "Go in -and take off the habit and wash that scratch off your face, for it -ain't pretty, to say the least of it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but please, I don't want any lunch," said Tilly.</p> - -<p>"You'll come down and take your place at the table. It don't matter in -the least whether ye eat or not."</p> - -<p>Tilly felt herself sore and beaten and bruised. She had met her master -in Malachi and could not get rid of him. In the end she put on a neat -white frock and went downstairs and took her place at the long table. -There was a huge sirloin of beef, and new potatoes and peas, and -quantities of raspberries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> and cream on the sideboard. Altogether it -was a refreshing and tempting repast and not one she was likely to get -in her own poor home.</p> - -<p>Malachi deliberately seated himself beside her. He pretended to be very -attentive to her. Margot was openly affectionate and asked eagerly how -she had enjoyed her ride.</p> - -<p>"Oh, to be sure, she is a wonder, no less," said Malachi, "but don't -bother her with talking too much till she has got a little food inside -her. I didn't know she was one of those celebrated Rayneses. Why they -can ride a bear, a bull, a cow, anything! She let it all out to me -to-day when she was scampering so gaily on Starlight."</p> - -<p>"I never heard of any Raynes who could ride," said The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"You've got an ugly scratch on your cheek," said Norah. "How did ye -come by that, Till?"</p> - -<p>"Didn't I say, let her eat her meal in quiet!" said Malachi. "A gurrl, -even though she is a Raynes, can't take it out of a thoroughbred when -he's as fresh as Starlight was this morning. Now eat, Till, eat."</p> - -<p>He piled her plate with provisions and The Desmond did not trouble -himself to look at her again.</p> - -<p>"You're a good, a very good little girl," said Malachi. "You're a true -Raynes, that is what you are.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> Now, swallow these peas and get ready -for the raspberries and cream."</p> - -<p>Margot looked on in a puzzled way. She felt sure that there was -something behind the scenes which she would know about later on. -Malachi never put on that kind of look for nothing. At last the meal -came to an end, and just at its close Mr. Flannigan appeared on the -scene.</p> - -<p>"Who's for Puss-in-the-Corner?" he said, glancing from one young-old -aunt to another.</p> - -<p>"We'll have a rare game; it's a fine afternoon," said Bride.</p> - -<p>"Help yourself to some more raspberries, Flannigan," said Malachi, "and -there's the cream jug by you. Pour it on plentiful, for there's a bit -of a lark coming on, man. Till and me, <i>we</i> know all about it, don't -we, Till?"</p> - -<p>Matilda had in reality hardly touched her dinner. She felt her head in -a whirl and her limbs aching. The strangely fierce appearance of The -Desmond at the head of the board terrified her beyond speaking.</p> - -<p>"Now, we'll soon get it over," said Malachi. "Here you are, Till, -shaking a bit, well, I'll take your little hand. Come along, you know -old Malachi well enough by this time."</p> - -<p>"I can't—I won't—I can't!" sobbed Tilly. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> - -<p>"For the Lord's sake don't have that girl howling in my presence," said -The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"She's not howling really, father. She's only bringing you a little -present. She's taken a mighty fancy to you, dad, and she wants to give -you this little parcel with her humble respects."</p> - -<p>"I don't mind taking presents if they are properly earned and -suitable," said The Desmond. "What's the matter with ye, colleen? I'm -not a bear or a lion."</p> - -<p>"To be sure no, dad, ye are the finest man in Kerry."</p> - -<p>By this time Malachi and Tilly were standing by The Desmond's chair. -Tilly thrust the little packet of pins into the old man's hands and -then tried to escape, but she was surrounded on all sides, and finally -it was Mr. Flannigan who brought her back to stand by The Desmond's -side and watch his face as he opened the paper which contained the -strange gift.</p> - -<p>"Pins!" he exclaimed. "By the mighty archangels, pins! What do I want -with them, colleen?"</p> - -<p>"Tell the story," said Malachi, who was watching her.</p> - -<p>"I won't—I can't—I can't!" sobbed Tilly.</p> - -<p>"Then I will," said Malachi. "I have given you every chance, and I -can't do more, but The Desmond<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> shall know and you shall stand by and -look at him as he hears those black wicked lies of yours—no less——"</p> - -<p>Whereupon Malachi proceeded to enlighten his old father with regard -to the pins which Tilly had inserted in the thick deep lining of -Starlight's saddle.</p> - -<p>He told his story with great verve and passion and made far more of it -than Tilly herself would have done. He did not conceal the motive for -a moment. He did not attempt to shield the naughty and unhappy girl. -Towards the end of the narrative, The Desmond stood up. It was very -awful when The Desmond stood up. He looked so much bigger than anyone -else, and so much fiercer. His black eyes seemed to eat through Tilly. -The fire in them seemed to burn into her.</p> - -<p>"You <i>go</i>," he said, "not to-morrow, but <i>to-day</i>! This clergyman, Mr. -Flannigan, will see you into the train. I'll give him sufficient money -to get you out of the house. You are a bad, wicked, deceitful girl. You -wanted to kill my heart's treasure! Now, leave the room, and let me -never see your face again! As to these pins they bring a curse on you, -otherwise they are harmless. You <i>go</i>! Flannigan, will you see her off -and put her into the train? Nay, it would be safer to put her on board -the ship. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> didn't think there was such wickedness anywhere in the -world, but I'm learning in my old age; yes, God help me, I'm learning -in my old age. Pack your own things and <i>go</i>!"</p> - -<p>Tilly turned and went like a half-drowned kitten out of the room. She -was met, however, in the passage by Margot. Margot's beautiful black -eyes were brimful of tears.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Tilly, Tilly," she exclaimed, "did you really want to kill me?"</p> - -<p>"I—I—I think I did," said Tilly. "I hated you, Margot, and I—I hate -you now."</p> - -<p>"Anyhow I'm going to help you to pack, poor Tilly. It's an awful thing -to hate, and why should you hate one who never hated you?"</p> - -<p>"Don't you hate me after this?" said Tilly in bewilderment.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, indeed; no, I love you because you are so miserable."</p> - -<p>Suddenly Tilly found quite a different order of tears filling her eyes. -Margot swept her dear, little round arms about her and took her quickly -upstairs and packed for her because she was incapable of packing for -herself.</p> - -<p>Phinias Maloney's funny old cart was summoned and Tilly and her -belongings were packed into it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> but the last thing she remembered of -Desmondstown was the sweet face of little Margot, who kissed her hand -to her, and whose eyes were brimful of tears as she watched her drive -away.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XV.</span> <span class="smaller">I CANNOT TALK PARLEY-VOUS.</span></h2> - -<p>If ever there was a girl who was furious in her own mind it was Matilda -Raynes. She had enjoyed her life at Desmondstown. Little did she -care for the rough and tumble-down old house, the food was good, the -young-old aunts were jolly of the jolly. Malachi and Bruce were great -fun. Ah no, however, Malachi was <i>not</i> great fun! She used to think he -was, but she found out her mistake. For a man to sleep with one eye -open like a cat, for a man deliberately to get her into a hole, for a -man deliberately to betray her and force her to tell her horrible mean -little story—oh, no, she could not like Malachi any more.</p> - -<p>She also dreaded The Desmond inexpressibly, but perhaps of all the -happy Irish folks the one she disliked most was that sweet, loving, -forgiving <i>la petite</i> Comtesse. How dared she be loving and forgiving? -If she had fought her, Tilly would have known what to do, but she did -not. She was only gentle and a little sad, in fact very sad; and they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> -all, every one of them, made such a fuss about her and she was no real -Comtesse at all. She was nothing but a little stupid shopgirl. How in -the wide, wide world was Tilly ever to bear with her again?</p> - -<p>Mr. Flannigan sat very still by her side. She wished heartily that -she might have travelled alone to Rosslare. She did not wish for Mr. -Flannigan, he seemed to have no fun in him and he looked from time to -time with a sort of horror at Tilly.</p> - -<p>When they first got into the railway carriage it was crowded, but by -slow degrees the passengers got out. They were going, some in one -direction, some in another, until at last Tilly and Mr. Flannigan found -themselves alone. Then Mr. Flannigan turned his decidedly ungainly -back upon Tilly, and having secured that day's copy of the Cork -<i>Constitution</i> began to read. He would do anything under the sun for -the Desmonds, but he disliked this job with regard to Tilly.</p> - -<p>At last she could bear his silence and his gravity no longer. She -sprang from her seat in the opposite corner and came and sat facing him.</p> - -<p>"How soon shall we get to Rosslare?" she asked.</p> - -<p>Mr. Flannigan very slowly dropped his newspaper, looked fixedly at -Tilly and then said in a solemn, very sombre voice,</p> - -<p>"I'm not tellin' ye, for I don't know." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh, Mr. Flannigan," said Tilly, with a choking sound in her throat. -"Are you hating me as much as the others?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not lovin' ye at the present moment," said Flannigan.</p> - -<p>He resumed his paper, reading it with such apparent zeal that Tilly -might as well not exist. She felt more furious than ever. She began to -sob, she sobbed very loud. Flannigan took no notice whatever of the -noise she was making for some time, but when it became unbearable he -said,</p> - -<p>"For the Lord's sake don't slobber, girl!"</p> - -<p>"What's slobber?" asked Tilly, who pretended not to be acquainted -with the word, and who wanted at any cost to get Mr. Flannigan into -conversation, but the clergyman did not reply. He was buried again in -his newspaper.</p> - -<p>Tilly's sobs, which she thought so affecting, but which the old -clergyman called "slobber," grew fainter for lack of nutriment.</p> - -<p>By-and-bye they reached Rosslare, where a rather small boat was going -to cross over to Fishguard.</p> - -<p>"Ye'll have a rough crossing, I'm thinkin'," said Flannigan. "The waves -look dirty, to be sure. Ye'd best go and lie down. I'll see ye to your -cabin and then say good-bye. There's a return train, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> will take -me back to Desmondstown in time for supper."</p> - -<p>"Oh, oh, Mr. Flannigan," sobbed Tilly. "You don't believe all these bad -things of me?"</p> - -<p>"And why shouldn't I? There was the ten pins as large as life. Didn't I -count 'em when The Desmond was tellin' ye to begone?"</p> - -<p>"But you do know, you must know, Mr. Flannigan, that <i>she</i> is only a -shopkeeper——"</p> - -<p>"<i>She!</i> I'm not acquainted with your meaning."</p> - -<p>"It's that horrid Margot," said Tilly. "Have I not bought hats from her -and robes from her at Arles, and don't I know what she really and truly -is like?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, do ye? I'm thinkin' ye don't. I'll be wishin' ye a good day now, -Miss Tilly. Don't ye try pins on horses again when there are cats -about."</p> - -<p>"It was a horrid mean thing to do," said Tilly. "Anyone else would have -called out, but he's too mean."</p> - -<p>"Don't ye be runnin' down Malachi," exclaimed Flannigan. "Ye wanted -to kill or injure the darling of the place. I'm thinking one of your -stories is about as true as the other. Good day to ye now, I'm off!" He -gave a queer, awkward nod and disappeared up the companion and along -the deck until he reached the gangway. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> - -<p>Tilly thought herself quite the most miserable girl in all the world, -but still she might have her revenge yet. If she tried very, very, -<i>very</i> hard, if The Desmond did not believe in the story of the shop, -at least M. le Comte St. Juste would. It would be her business to get -things in train and make things very hard for the little Comtesse -against her return to Arles.</p> - -<p>Tilly Raynes had a horrible crossing. The boat was small, the sea was -rough. She hated all physical discomforts. She cried to the stewardess -and begged of her to stay with her, assuring her that she was a very -ill-used little girl and had no right to be going in that ricketty old -boat at all.</p> - -<p>"Well you are in it," said the stewardess, "and if God is merciful we -<i>may</i> yet reach dry land."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean—what do you mean?" said Tilly, forgetting her terror -and hatred of the Desmonds, in the nearer and possible terror of -imminent death.</p> - -<p>"What I say," replied the stewardess. "We are like as not to see Davy -Jones to-night."</p> - -<p>"Whoever is Davy Jones?" asked Tilly.</p> - -<p>"He's the king of the bottom of the sea. They who sup with him, sup -once and never again. Now don't keep me, little gurrl, see there's a -poor lady like to faint in the far saloon from here. You are a bit of -a coward, I take it, and I can't stay <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>comforting cowards when there's -real illness and real danger."</p> - -<p>Then Matilda, somehow or other, forgot her deadly seasickness and her -hatred of the Desmonds and shook and trembled in her narrow berth. The -wind was blowing great guns and the sailors were rushing here, there, -and everywhere. The captain's voice giving directions sounded to Tilly -like great claps of thunder. She forgot about the pins and her fall -from the horse.</p> - -<p>Gradually, as the sea grew rougher and the danger greater, she found -herself looking in imagination at one sweet, dark, sad and yet smiling -face. It was the face of the little shopkeeper, whom she had tried, -yes, her very best, to injure, perhaps to kill. Now she herself was -face to face with death. It would be awful to go down into the depths -of those wild and terrible waves. Everyone on board seemed uneasy.</p> - -<p>The little steamer swayed from side to side and rocked and shook itself -as though it knew that it was small and angry and powerless. Thrills of -terror ran through Tilly's frame. The captain's voice was heard to say,</p> - -<p>"The dangerous time is when——"</p> - -<p>She could not catch the rest of the words. The stewardess did not come -near her. Women laughed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> and cried and screamed. Tilly was all alone in -her little cabin. She wondered how long she would take drowning. She -could think of nothing but the horrors of death. Then all of a sudden -she made up her mind not to die in a hole. She would creep upstairs and -be on deck. She had read stories of shipwrecks and when the worst came -boats were put out. The stewardess was a horrid woman and would not -think of her. Well, she would think of herself. She would be one of the -very first to leave the boat when the appalling hour of danger came, -when they got to the—that unpronounceable name which she could not -catch.</p> - -<p>But it was all very well for Tilly to try to get out of her berth, she -found she could not. The sea took her and threw her back again into it. -The sea tossed her against the side of her narrow berth, and she had to -cling on with one hand to an extremely narrow rail and with the other -to the top of the berth. The sea roared, the winds roared. Showers of -foam flung themselves against the port-hole. The combined sounds spoke -of nothing but death, death, death!</p> - -<p>Never in all her life had she been so miserable before. Even The -Desmond and Malachi were nothing to this anguish. She would sink to the -bottom of the deep, deep sea and no one would be very, very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> sorry. Why -should they? Had she ever made anyone love her? Her father—had he not -punished her and been cross to her all her days! Her stepmother—had -she not been sly and told false things about Tilly? Well, they would -not have any more trouble with her again; she would eat her last supper -with Davy Jones.</p> - -<p>She felt confused, slightly raving! What sort of supper would he -give her? Fishes, of course, all sorts of fishes and then afterwards -the big fishes would eat her and no one would lament unless perhaps, -perhaps <i>Margot</i>! But no, it was impossible to think that Margot -would be sorry. Why should a shopgirl be sorry? She, Margot, was only -that—nothing more at all, although they did make such a fuss about her -at Desmondstown.</p> - -<p>Suddenly in the midst of her meditations there came a curious and -remarkable lull. She no longer found it necessary to cling to either -one side or the other of the berth. It seemed as though someone, she -thought it was Margot, had poured oil on the disturbed waters. Might -she, could she, would she be allowed to save even such a wicked girl as -Tilly?</p> - -<p>Tilly acknowledged now that she was wicked and that Margot was good and -then all of a sudden the stewardess bustled in.</p> - -<p>"For the Lord's sake get up, missie," she said in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> a cheerful tone. "I -couldn't come near ye with others so bad, but we are in harbour, thank -the Lord, and all danger is over. Yes, we had a rough night, mighty -rough. I've never gone through a worse, but I couldn't stay along of -cowards. Here's your jacket, missie, I'll slip it on ye, and here's -your hat! You do look bad, but we are very late in, and if you want to -catch your train for London, ye'd best hurry up. Shall I get a porter -for your luggage, missie?"</p> - -<p>Tilly answered "yes" in a meek sort of voice and then she gave the -stewardess who had done nothing for her all night a shilling out of -her scanty store. Presently she was on dry land and in the train. She -was not going to eat her supper with Davy Jones, she was going to live -after all; she had passed through a fearful night, but she was going to -live.</p> - -<p>Everything was new and fresh to her now, and when a boy brought her a -cup of tea and a plate of bread and butter, she ate greedily and with -appetite. Then it occurred to her that she ought to wire to her father. -She had money enough for this, too. The Desmond had supplied her with -plenty of money.</p> - -<p>Mr. Raynes was a coal merchant on a large scale, exceedingly well off. -He lived on Clapham Common. The house was ugly and without any pretence -to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> good looks. Tilly's stepmother met her in London, scolded her, -shook her, put her hat straight and asked her why in the world was she -coming home so soon.</p> - -<p>Tilly felt all the old wicked feelings rising in her breast when her -stepmother began to harangue her. She immediately said that she was -only wasting time at Desmondstown and wanted to work very hard indeed, -so as to get to Arles one week before term began.</p> - -<p>The stepmother went on scolding. Tilly hardly listened. She was feeling -wicked again, but she was thankful to be on dry land. They reached the -big, luxuriously furnished, vulgar-looking house on Clapham Common.</p> - -<p>Tilly suddenly felt herself very sick; her stepmother was fairly kind -to her when she was really sick. She allowed her to go to bed and sent -Mary Ann, the house-parlourmaid, upstairs to look after her.</p> - -<p>Mary Ann was a favourite with Tilly and listened with mouth wide open, -ears extended to their utmost, and eyes that looked as though they -were going to spring out of her head, to Tilly's account of the awful -storm at sea. She got the girl swiftly and quickly into bed and gave -her a very little hot tea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> and dry toast, and then Tilly forgot all her -miseries in sleep.</p> - -<p>It may have been her fall off the back of Starlight, or it may have -been her fearful crossing, but, whatever the reason, for a few days -Matilda Raynes was really ill. She was feverish and the doctor was sent -for. During the whole of this time she was attended by Mary Ann and -very occasionally saw her stepmother, but never once her father.</p> - -<p>The doctor said she must have got a very severe shock of some sort. He -told this to her father and also to her stepmother.</p> - -<p>When Raynes, the coal-merchant, discovered that his daughter had -received a shock and had come back home much sooner than she had -expected to do so, he sat down and wrote a firm, cold letter to Mr. -Desmond of Desmondstown. He said his child had been brought back to him -at death's door and he wanted to know the reason of it. Had those wild -Irish folk been playing pranks with his only child? He had no idea of -addressing The Desmond as The. He had never heard of such a title, and -if he had would not have used it.</p> - -<p>At last he received a reply in the neat, firm handwriting of Fergus -Desmond. Fergus told him of the letter not being addressed right -which naturally came into his possession. His father's title was The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>Desmond. He said he did not wish to complain of Matilda Raynes, but -as her father wished to know the truth, he would tell him the truth. -He then proceeded to give a graphic description of the thoroughbred -Starlight and of Tilly's conduct with regard to the ten pins. He wasted -no words, but told the story just as it stood.</p> - -<p>Tilly was sent away by The Desmond. He could not possibly have such a -wicked girl in his house. There was one person whom The Desmond set -great store by and that was his little granddaughter Margot, or the -pushkeen as he called her. Tilly was jealous of the pushkeen and when -she was not allowed to ride her horse she stuck pins into the saddle, -hoping thereby to injure if not to kill the little girl. That was the -story; he had nothing more to say. He was sorry for Mr. Raynes.</p> - -<p>Raynes passed the letter across the table to his wife, who read it with -pursed-up lips and glittering pale-blue eyes.</p> - -<p>"Well, I must say it was a nasty thing to do," she said.</p> - -<p>"It was," said Raynes. "We'll teach her what's what when she's better."</p> - -<p>"She's better to-night, Robert. Mary Ann says she is nearly well." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> - -<p>"We'll wait for what's what until to-morrow," said Robert Raynes.</p> - -<p>The next day Tilly was dressed. She had partaken of an excellent dinner -prepared for her by Mary Ann, and a bright little fire burnt in her -room. She was feeling still weak and tired. Her father came in and -looked at her. She shrank away from him in a sort of terror.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you are afraid of me, are you?" said the coal-merchant. "You have -good cause to be. Read that!"</p> - -<p>He passed Fergus Desmond's letter across the width of the little table -and laid it in Tilly's hand.</p> - -<p>"Take your time," he said, "I'm in no hurry."</p> - -<p>He sat down deliberately and looked about him. Tilly could not see the -letters at all at first from a queer sense of giddiness. She wished her -father would go and leave her alone. But he sat quite calmly by the -fire.</p> - -<p>"You'll just have the goodness to read that quietly," he said. "I'm in -no manner of hurry. Take it in, take it all in!"</p> - -<p>By degrees Tilly did take it in. She raised terrified weak eyes to her -father's face.</p> - -<p>"Oh, daddy, daddy," she said. "Don't be angry with me. She's only a -shopkeeper and they make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> such a fuss of her—and I—I'm so weak and -miserable."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps ye are a bit," said Raynes. "I'm not going to be angry, but -ye'll get your whipping all the same."</p> - -<p>"Oh, dad, oh, dad——"</p> - -<p>"Yes, child, there's no escape; just hold on to the foot of the bed and -bare your two arms and your shoulders. I don't hold with girls who want -to injure other girls. Now for every time you cry out you'll get an -extra stroke, so keep as quiet as you can."</p> - -<p>Tilly knew there was no help for it. Her father had brought a light, -keen-looking cane into the room with him. She had seen it when he had -given her the letter to read. He slashed right, he slashed left,—she -kept back her screams. After a time she was strangely still, she had -fainted.</p> - -<p>Then Mary Ann came up and comforted and petted her and put her back to -bed and eased her sores by some very delicate ointment. No one else was -in the least inclined to be kind. Two days afterwards, however, Raynes -entered his daughter's bedroom.</p> - -<p>"There isn't the making of a lady in you, Tilly," he said, "and I'm not -going to send you back to Arles any more. There's a cheap school for -your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> sort of girl close by, and you can help your stepmother when you -are not working at school, and by the time you are sixteen you'll be -sitting in my coal-office taking down orders for tons and tons of coal. -No more Arles or French, or fine ladies for you! Bless my soul, you -<i>are</i> a mean little thing! But now I want to get at the truth of this. -Tell me every blessed thing you know about that kind girl you call the -little shopkeeper."</p> - -<p>Tilly did tell her story. She told it graphically and even with her -father's stern eyes fixed on her face, with a certain amount of -correctness. She had bought hats and robes from <i>la petite</i> Comtesse -and the old man the Comte St. Juste didn't know, and the old man The -Desmond in Ireland didn't know.</p> - -<p>"You are sure of your facts?" said Raynes, when she had stopped.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'm quite positive sure."</p> - -<p>"That's all right then. I punished you, my girl, because you did a mean -and cruel thing, but I'm not going to let the little shopgirl get off -Scot free. I can't talk <i>parlez-vous</i>, so I'm going straight to Ireland -to-night, where I'll tell the entire story to those folks who think -themselves so fine. You needn't begin your school-life, my girl, till I -come back. This has got to be seen to and I'm the man for the job."</p> - -<p>"Oh, oh, father, don't—don't——" suddenly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> cried Tilly. "I see her, -she's in the room, she's looking at me!"</p> - -<p>"Why you are raving mad, child, who's in the room, who's looking at -you?"</p> - -<p>"<i>La petite</i> Comtesse Margot. She was the only one who was always kind; -even when I stuck pins into the saddle she was kind, and I saw her on -board ship, when I thought I was going to the bottom. Oh, but she's -good, she's <i>real</i> good and M. le Comte, her grandpère, he mustn't be -frightened. He loves her like her other grandfather loves her. Oh, -father, let it be, let it be!"</p> - -<p>"I'm going to Ireland to-night," was Raynes's remark.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVI.</span> <span class="smaller">THE FEAR OF THE SHILLELAGH.</span></h2> - -<p>The coal-merchant was a man of his word. He was hard and cruel and -unkind, but in his own way he was proud of Tilly. Those people whom he -was most proud of he liked to train, and he was under the impression -that he trained his daughter Matilda very well. When he beat her, which -he did constantly; when he scolded her, he quoted to himself the old -words, "Spare the rod and spoil the child." He felt he was following in -the footsteps of Holy Writ. He thought himself a very blessed man.</p> - -<p>Now in addition to all this scolding and beating on the part of -the coal-merchant with regard to Matilda Raynes, there was also a -strange feeling of absolute indifference towards her stepmother. Her -stepmother's name was Harriet; and Joshua Raynes thought very little of -Harriet. In consequence he left her alone. She was only useful in the -matter of helping him to train Matilda, but he never fussed over his -second wife, and, as far as possible, let her go her own way. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> - -<p>Harriet Raynes quickly discovered that nothing excited Joshua Raynes so -much as to talk about Tilly, more in especial to talk <i>against</i> Tilly. -He used to listen with his staring eyes fixed on his wife's face and -say "Good little woman" and then go upstairs and prove things to his -own satisfaction and beat Tilly because he loved her enough to consider -beating essential.</p> - -<p>She would be a very rich woman by-and-bye, for the coal-merchant did a -thriving business and all his money he put by for Tilly. That was the -one joy of his life. He could hurt her and torture her and yet in his -queer, unaccountable way, she was the only creature he loved.</p> - -<p>He was quite determined, however, to get to the bottom of the Irish -story. If the thing was true, the girl who put on airs and kept a shop -should be publicly disgraced and he would do it. He would enjoy doing -it very much. He couldn't hurt the little shopkeeper—not physically, -at least—but he could make her feel bad, and this he was determined -to do. Mr. Desmond should feel bad, too, forsooth! What name did Tilly -call him—"The"—if you please! He had never heard of anything so -ridiculous in his life. He'd soon knock "The" out of the old curmudgeon.</p> - -<p>It was a calm night when Joshua Raynes took the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> boat from Fishguard to -Rosslare. He did not go through the miseries his child had undergone -and he steamed away through the calm waters in a boat at least three -times the size. He had never been in Ireland in his life before, and -when he arrived at Rosslare was much bothered with the tongue employed -by the good-natured country folks.</p> - -<p>He said, "Eh, eh, what do you want to tell me?" over and over again. -He told each individual he met that the said individual was stony -deaf, and also dumb. The Irish person, be it man or woman, gossoon or -girleen, objected to his manner, refused to be considered deaf and dumb -when he could sphake the beautiful tongue—the Irish, bedad—to say -nothing of that paltry tongue, the English.</p> - -<p>Joshua felt himself getting crosser and crosser each moment. What was -he to do? How was he to hold out? How was he to find the man called -Desmond who had spoken evil things of his Tilly? He did not in the -least admire the beauty of the country. He had no eye for the green of -the Emerald Isle nor her lofty mountains, nor her flowing streams and -rushing rivers.</p> - -<p>He talked so angrily that people left him alone and the train that -should have taken him to Mallow went off without him. He might have -lingered at Waterford goodness knows how long, waiting for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> man of -the name of Desmond and trying to talk to stone-deaf and dumb people, -who only talked gibberish, when a bright-eyed, sparkling-looking -individual came suddenly on the platform, stared at Joshua, said a few -words to the people round and presently came up and introduced himself.</p> - -<p>"I am told ye are lookin' for The Desmond," he said. "You won't find -his high, great mightiness standing in a bit of a shanty like this. I'm -Malachi Desmond, son of The Desmond. I've just had a big sale of horses -this morning and am going back to Desmondstown in a quarter of an hour. -If you want to see The Desmond I've no manner of objection."</p> - -<p>"I want to see <i>Mr.</i> Desmond of Desmondstown," said the coal-merchant.</p> - -<p>"There isn't such a person. <i>Mr.</i> Desmond! For the Lord's sake, man, ye -are mighty ignorant!"</p> - -<p>"Am I, sir? Well, I don't want you to tell me what I am, and what I am -not."</p> - -<p>"Then you listen to me," said Malachi. "The Desmond is next door to a -king, and he lives in his kingdom, and I'm his son, Malachi. Be the -powers! I wonder if you're the father of that nasty little bit-thing -that stuck pins in the saddle of Starlight. I wouldn't be a scrap -surprised if you were, nor flustered neither. You've got the same -malicious gleam<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> of the eye. We have cats at Desmondstown and <i>I'm</i> -one."</p> - -<p>"You are a very big cat," said Joshua.</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm one when I like. Do ye want to see The Desmond or do ye not?"</p> - -<p>"There isn't such a name, it is silly," said the coal-merchant.</p> - -<p>"Don't ye talk in that sort of way in old Ireland," said Malachi, "for -at a wink from me, <i>the cat</i>, we'll have all the boys out with their -shillelaghs. You'd best be careful what you say in our country. The -Desmond <i>is</i> The Desmond, and he is royal king of Desmondstown. By the -same token, here's our train. Are ye coming along with me or are ye -not?"</p> - -<p>"I'm coming along," said Joshua. "I'm a man of my word. It's a wild, -bad country, but I'm coming along all the same. I want to knock 'The' -out of a certain person and I'll do it my own way."</p> - -<p>"We'll see about that," said Malachi. "Remember the big cat never -sleeps."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you are all mad in this dreadful place," said Joshua. "I can't -make out what you are driving at, but I'll come with you, for I think I -can take down your pride a bit."</p> - -<p>"Oh, to be sure, that's a fine thing to do," said Malachi. "Here's an -empty, third-class carriage we can have all to ourselves. You might -begin <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>pulling out my pride at once. It is stuck very deep, its roots -go far and they twist and they turn; and by the powers; they twist and -turn again. But if ye give a long pull and a strong pull maybe ye'll -have some of them out before I begin to scratch."</p> - -<p>The coal-merchant was now quite certain that Malachi was mad, but he -kept his object well in view and determined not to show outward fear -of him. They started on their journey and before they got to Mallow, -Joshua discovered two things about Malachi: first, that he could -understand his language; and second, that he was a real clever man, for -nothing so thoroughly impressed the coal-merchant with cleverness as -the sight of gold and notes.</p> - -<p>Malachi pulled out a quantity of money from his pocket; in fact, some -hundreds of pounds. This money had been paid partly in notes, and -partly in sovereigns and was given for a horse called <i>Nora Crena</i> and -another horse called <i>A Bit of Herself</i> and another horse again called -<i>Brian the Brave</i>. He had made well on these horses but he was very -sorry to part with <i>Brian the Brave</i>.</p> - -<p>Joshua sat and looked at the man; he looked also at the gold and began -to respect him. At Mallow they changed trains and again were lucky -enough to have one to themselves. Then Malachi bent forward and said in -a grave and very determined voice, </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Now what may you be wanting to see The Desmond for?"</p> - -<p>"He's not The Desmond," said Joshua.</p> - -<p>"He is. Let that drop. Anyhow what do you want to see him for?"</p> - -<p>"He has turned my child out of his house; he told her to go and she was -all but drowned on the deep sea."</p> - -<p>"She stuck ten pins into the saddle of Starlight," remarked Malachi. -"She did it to injure our pushkeen. It was proved against her and she -couldn't deny it. If your name is Raynes, you're a great horseman, I -take it."</p> - -<p>"Horseman, not I! I never sat on a horse in my life."</p> - -<p>"Dear! To be sure! Your girl rode elegant."</p> - -<p>"Did she?" answered Raynes, feeling a little proud in spite of himself.</p> - -<p>"She did that, she rode like a sylph. I didn't think at first she had -it in her, but she was like a bird on Starlight. You see it was this -way. I was having one of my cat's snoozes in Starlight's loose box. -Starlight wasn't properly broken in at that time, and I was mighty -feared to put any young gurrl on him who didn't understand the nature -of the beast."</p> - -<p>"You were right there," growled Raynes. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, so I thought I was. And when your bit girleen come and said to -me, 'Let me ride Starlight,' I says 'No, I value your precious life too -much.'"</p> - -<p>"Quite right, too, quite right, too," said Joshua.</p> - -<p>"Then you see she was a bit put out, and no wonder with her gift for -riding. And she came slipping into the stable and never saw me having -my cat's sleep in the loose box, and she fetched down the saddle that -had just come from Cork city for our little bit of a pushkeen, and if -you'll believe me, she stuck ten pins into it; yes, ten—every one I -reckoned. I kept both my eyes wide open and she went away humming to -herself and as pleased as Punch. Then I took nine of the pins out, -for what was the good of injuring the beautiful creature more than -was necessary for my purpose, and I told her she might have a ride -on Starlight if pushkeen would lend her her new saddle. You may be -quite certain she was not behindhand in that, was pushkeen—she's the -best-natured little lambkin that auld Ireland has ever seen. So I -mounted Miss Tilly on Starlight and rode Brian the Brave meself, and -there was only one pin in the saddle, but I contrived it proper to -pierce the hide of the creature. Oh, but she rode like a bird, like -a bird, and I was ashamed of meself for misdoubting her. And then we -talked of all the famous Rayneses of England, who took every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> prize -worth mentioning in your queer sort of country, and she said she was -hurt at me for doubting her, and of course when I knew she was one -of <i>those</i> Rayneses I was altogether up a tree; yes, to be sure, -that I was. Well, what do ye think? all of a sudden she lets out a -screech,—and a motor car, the De'il's own contrivance, comes splashin' -and roarin' round the corner, and Starlight stood bolt upright on his -hind-legs and I helped missie to a soft fall by the roadside. Then I -made her tell The Desmond——"</p> - -<p>"<i>Mr.</i> Desmond, if you please," said Raynes.</p> - -<p>"I made her tell <i>The</i> Desmond the story, and he said she was to go -and go at once, and she did go, and Flannigan, our good Protestant -curate, saw her off, and that's all I can tell you about her. She's not -altogether a very nice child, even though she is a Raynes of England, -but I can't make out for the life of me what you are wantin' at -Desmondstown. You may as well tell me, for I may be able to help you."</p> - -<p>"I'm most bitter ashamed of Tilly," said Raynes, when the other man had -ceased speaking. "She has told a shocking lot of black lies, and her -wanting to injure and perhaps kill the little shopkeeper is perhaps the -worst of all."</p> - -<p>"The little shopkeeper—my word! What next!"</p> - -<p>"I'm coming to that in a minute or two," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> Raynes. "She was a bad -little piece and I've punished her according, and I'll punish her -still more for the lies she told about us and horses. Why, man, I'm -a coal-merchant, that's what I am. I am making my pile and a goodly -one it will be if the Lord spares me. But we don't any of us know any -more about horses than you know how to act the cat. We are nothing but -coal-merchants, that's what we are."</p> - -<p>"Well, there is nothing wrong in that," said Malachi. "It seems a pity -she descended to lies. But, now whatever is your business with us, Mr. -Raynes?"</p> - -<p>"I've come for the express purpose of exposing that young girl you make -such a fuss about. She was nothing at all but a little shopkeeper at -Arles and you set her up to be a fine lady."</p> - -<p>"She wasn't no shopkeeper at Arles," said Malachi. "I don't know what -you are talking about."</p> - -<p>"Well, but I do, and I've come over all this long way for the express -purpose of having it cleared up. I've punished my Tilly and I'll punish -her more. There came a time in my life when I thought to make a fine -lady of my Matilda and I sent her to Arles to the school of a woman -who called herself a princess, but Tilly will never be a lady. She'll -keep in her father's station and have to be content. Now, I've listened -in patience to your story and I'm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> very angry indeed with my girl, -but there's no doubt whatever that right is right, whether it is on -the left side or the right, and that child you think such a power of -spends her time at Arles selling hats and dresses. She's the little -shopkeeper, that's what she is. She has sold hats and dresses to my -girl and that's how my girl knows."</p> - -<p>"We're nearly at home by now," said Malachi. "Phinias Maloney will have -his bit of a cart waiting for us. I'll look into this matter for ye, -Mr.—Mr. Raynes. You keep it dark until I give the word."</p> - -<p>"You're certain sure you won't act the cat on me?" said Raynes.</p> - -<p>"No, no; I should have to be a very wide-awake cat to act that little -game on you. I'm going to ask Phinias Maloney to put you up for the -present and I'll be round when the moment comes that you wish to tell -my father."</p> - -<p>"I don't know that I want to put up for the night at the house of the -man you call Phinias Maloney."</p> - -<p>"You couldn't do better, his house is clean of the clean, and Annie his -wife will give you her bedroom and sleep along of the children, and -himself will lay on the settee near the fire. Now then, here we are. -I expect ye are a bit hungry. There ain't one in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> countryside for -frying eggs and bacon to compare with our Annie. Hullo, Phinias, here -ye are!"</p> - -<p>The funny little springless cart was brought up. Malachi had a -short and very earnest conversation with Phinias, who gave one very -solemn twitter of his eyelid but made no further comment of any sort -whatsoever. Presently the three men got under way and Raynes, who -really felt himself very tired, not to say exhausted and ravenously -hungry, began to turn his attention with keen desire to Annie's eggs -and bacon.</p> - -<p>Malachi parted company with Raynes at the broken-down gate of -Desmondstown. He assured Raynes that he would have a word with him that -evening, and left him in the complete care of Phinias, who talked the -entire way to the cottage of the power of the celebrated shillelagh.</p> - -<p>"Be all that's howly," he said, "it would smash a man's brains out -whilst he was a-thinkin'. Every man in these parts kapes wan; they're -better than any guns I've heerd tell on."</p> - -<p>Raynes felt decidedly uncomfortable. He ventured to ask what shape a -shillelagh was, but Phinias's reply was,</p> - -<p>"They're meant for killing, it don't matter the shape! To be sure now, -Annie, mavourneen, here's a gent from England, own father to that dear -little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> Miss Tilly. He's mad with the hunger. You get him as many -new-laid eggs and rashers of bacon and bread and butter and fresh milk -and cream and tea as you think he can swaller. Don't overdo the man, -but do him well, for the sake of <i>dear</i> little Miss Tilly."</p> - -<p>Annie felt very much inclined to say that she was never dear little -Miss Tilly to her, but there was a look in her husband's face which -caused her to "kape herself to herself."</p> - -<p>Accordingly the childer were swept out of the room. Raynes from England -was given the only decent bedroom in the house and presently Annie -appeared with a great tray, which contained half a dozen fried eggs, as -many rashers of home-cured bacon, bread and butter, and a great jug of -milk, besides rich cream and tea.</p> - -<p>"That'll do," said Raynes, who felt almost sinking from sheer -exhaustion.</p> - -<p>Annie went away and communed with her husband. Raynes ate until he -could eat no more, and then thought he couldn't do better than explore -the premises a little. But he was met at the doorway by no less a -person than Phinias himself. Phinias was twiddling his shillelagh in -the air, and it certainly looked a weapon that could not be trifled -with; that is, if it was turned <i>against</i> you. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'd like to try it," said Raynes, somewhat timidly.</p> - -<p>"You try it—<i>you</i>! You don't know the swing of the thing; you 'as to -be out in the air in the first place, and the next you 'as to swing it -through the air with a sort of a swish, and then down it comes—crack!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, I don't mind about it," said Raynes. "I'm a harmless man, I -don't want to hurt anybody. I'm just going out for a bit of a stroll."</p> - -<p>"Ho, you ain't," said Phinias. "You'll stay just where you are until -you have spoken your mane and dirty words agin our little Miss -Pushkeen. The jintlemens will come to see you all in good time, and as -soon as ever they have gone, I'll have the greatest pleasure in life -in driving ye back to the railway station where ye can take ship for -England, and you and your low-down girl Tilly can meet again."</p> - -<p>"I tell you, I tell you—" said Raynes, almost stupid with rage, "that -the little miss you make such a fuss about is only——"</p> - -<p>"Come out into the yard and tell me about her there," said Phinias.</p> - -<p>"No, I won't, not while you hold that thing in your hand."</p> - -<p>"I'm not going out without it, so don't you think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> it. And I'm standing -just here to pervent ye takin' a flyin' lep unbeknownst. Oh, be the -powers! We are all right now, I'm thinkin'. Here's master Malachi and -'himself' coming across the fields. They'll be here in no time."</p> - -<p>"Is he the one they call by the ridiculous name of '<i>The</i>'?" asked -Raynes.</p> - -<p>"'Tain't ridiculous. Whist, now, hide yer ignorance if ye can. They -have shillelaghs as well as we. You sphake up to him."</p> - -<p>"I'm not afraid," said Joshua.</p> - -<p>"To be sure you aren't. How could the father of Tilly mavourneen be -afraid?"</p> - -<p>"That's what I'm thinkin'," said Raynes.</p> - -<p>"Ah, thin, jintlemen, here ye be. Welcome to my hovel, The Desmond, -asthore. Welcome, Master Malachi. The gent is gettin' a bit restive. -He's anxious to see ye, to relieve a burden on his mind."</p> - -<p>"I am, and I don't like those sticks you hold," said Raynes.</p> - -<p>The man, who for the time being had adopted the name of The Desmond, -was in reality Fergus, the heir to that ancient title. He immediately -laid his stick on the table. Phinias went out into the yard whistling. -Malachi shook hands with Raynes, as though he was his oldest and -dearest friend, whom he had not met for at least twenty years. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I hope ye are feelin' comfortable, sir," he said.</p> - -<p>"Very much so," replied Raynes, "if I might get a breath of the air and -not be frightened to death by that queer man. I want to walk over to -Desmondstown to see Mr. Desmond."</p> - -<p>"I brought him to you," said Malachi. "Here's The Desmond. Be careful -you don't anger him, or he may raise the stick."</p> - -<p>Certainly Raynes never felt in a poorer case. Fergus, who already was -well acquainted with the story of his beloved little Margot, allowed -Raynes to relieve his feelings, looking at him with his steady dark -eyes and his calm, unemotional face. Malachi was as usual all twinkles -and smiles.</p> - -<p>Raynes told his story very badly and, when he came to an end, Fergus -rose to his feet, and said in his refined, gentlemanly voice,</p> - -<p>"Well, now, this is no news to me. It is the French stepgrandmother's -doing and must be put a stop to. I'll see that it is put a stop to and -I'm greatly obliged to you for tellin' me the whole story from first to -last, so graphically as you have done, Mr.—Mr. Raynes."</p> - -<p>"I'm obliged to you, <i>Mr.</i> Desmond," said Raynes.</p> - -<p>"That's right, call me anything you like. I'm not particular." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The car is at the door. We had best be starting, if ye want to catch -yez train," said Phinias.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, yes," cried the coal-merchant, who was only too terribly -anxious to get out of the land of the shillelagh.</p> - -<p>Phinias and he were soon driving rapidly in the uncomfortable cart to -the railway station. He never felt so pleased in his life as when he -got into the train. He was heard to remark to one or two farmers on his -return journey that "The Desmond, ridiculous name, looked a very young -man." The farmers stared but made no comment.</p> - -<p>Thus did Malachi and Fergus save their father from a shock, which would -have undoubtedly half killed him, for the Irish pride is like no other -pride. It sinks into the heart, it eats the very vitals and has been -known many and many a time to destroy life.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVII.</span> <span class="smaller">IF IT MUST BE IT MUST.</span></h2> - -<p>When one is young and when one is happy time goes fast; nay, more, time -goes like lightning. There is the beautiful joy of existence, there is -the exquisite feeling of love. There is the happiness in which each -hour is occupied, fully, entirely, completely, for the use of others. -Such was the case with little Margot St. Juste. She played with the -sunshiny passing hours, she sat on The Desmond's knee and brought back -such superb and astounding accounts of her rides on Starlight that -something stirred in the old man's breast and he felt that he himself -must, forsooth, go a-riding with this fascinating little colleen.</p> - -<p>Accordingly the <i>King of the Desmonds</i> was brought out and Malachi rode -at one side of little Margot and The Desmond himself at the other. The -old horse knew quite well who was on his back and in some remarkable -measure got back some of his lost youth, and noble were the exercises -which the three riders took over hills and dales, across country,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> over -different stiles and various impediments, and each day The Desmond felt -younger and laughed and talked more cheerily.</p> - -<p>The pushkeen had not only brought him back joy, but she had brought him -back his lost youth. Ah, but those were happy days and neither child -nor old man thought of the inevitable return to Arles which was coming -nearer, like a black cloud, day by day.</p> - -<p>When Raynes returned to his large and vulgar house on Clapham Common, -he spoke to his daughter in a way which she was never likely to forget. -He was, in short, furiously angry. He told her she was a bad, bad girl -and that the High School at Clapham was far too good for her. Tilly -had always known that the said High School was good, in fact, a great -deal too good, but she wanted, if possible, to punish Margot. Although -it was now finally settled that she was not to return to the school -of la Princesse de Fleury, she could, nevertheless, work mischief, -as far as Margot was concerned. She knew the exact date on which the -little shopkeeper would return to Arles, when she would be petted by -her doting and ignorant grandfather and when morning after morning -she would enter the great <i>établissement</i> and sell chapeaux and robes -innumerable to the <i>élite</i> of Arles, the <i>élite</i> of England, the -<i>élite</i> of America. Oh, yes, she had a friend who would help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> her. She -would write to this friend. The friend's name was Louise Grognan.</p> - -<p>Louise Grognan was a considerable character on her own account, was -liked at the school of la Princesse, and was always very friendly with -Tilly. Tilly wrote to her now as follows:</p> - -<p>"Oh, Louise," she began, "I am not coming back any more to your -beautiful school. I regret this for many reasons, but my French by the -ignorant people here is considered perfect and I am in consequence to -be taught the tongue of England in all its branches. Think not that -I will forget you, Louise, and sometime, perhaps, your good <i>père</i> -will allow you to come to visit me in my father's grand house. It is -rich and very grand and nobly furnished. Your père Grognan can make -the <i>filet de sole</i>, the <i>sauce Hollandaise</i>, the <i>entrée bouche -à la reine</i>, but my father—ah, wait until you behold him, sweet -Louise! Now then, to business. You know that little Comtesse who sells -chapeaux of all sorts and descriptions and robes of all sorts and -makes, at the <i>établissement</i> of Madame Marcelle. We call her here the -little shopkeeper and she likes it not. I went to stay with her at -Desmondstown, a ramshackle old place, where they played a very cruel -trick on me, and when I told them that <i>la petite</i> Comtesse was only -a little shopkeeper, they would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> not believe me. Now, I want you to -help me, and if you do, and do the thing well, I will invite you to -my gorgeous home in Angleterre next summer or perhaps even at Easter. -We live close to the greatest city in the world, Londres, so big, so -mighty, so powerful. It is not as graceful as Paris, but it will ravish -your eyes and I will take you there day by day and you will have a -glorious time. But what I want you to do now is this. The grandpère of -the little Comtesse, M. le Comte St. Juste, does not know at all that -his granddaughter helps at a shop. He is a very old and feeble man and -he ought to be enlightened. Now, I put this into your hands, my best -beloved Louise, to tell him the truth. You must call at the Château St. -Juste and ask to see him. Go, I beseech of you, when the weather is -cold and the bees do not hum so much and do not trouble themselves to -sting. If you convey the news, thoroughly and perfectly, to the ears of -the old, old man, I have in my possession forty francs, no less, which -I will send you, and afterwards you shall come to see me for long weeks -at Clapham Common, which is thought the <i>most</i> aristocratic part of all -London. Now listen to me, Louise, and as you listen, Louise Grognan, -obey! I will promise to you a glorious time and although the food is -English, not French, it is of the best and the daintiest." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> - -<p>This letter was addressed to Mlle. Louise Grognan at her father's -large restaurant and Tilda received an answer in due course. Louise -could be sure of nothing, but she would do her best. As it happened, -she owed forty francs to Madame Marcelle and she knew that her father, -whose restaurant was so famous, would be furious if he knew that she -had gone into debt. She did not really care for Matilda Raynes, nor -was she very keen to go to Clapham Common, nor to see the cold wonders -of London. She preferred <i>la belle</i> France—with its lovely Arles and -its gay Paris. She did not care for pictures nor monuments nor ancient -cathedrals. She liked dress better than anything else in the world. If -she paid off her forty francs she might run up a further little bill at -the <i>établissement</i> of Madame Marcelle.</p> - -<p>Then it occurred to her as she replied to her friend, or rather her -so-called friend, that she might raise the price for this rather nasty -little job. Accordingly, she said that she would do what Matilda -Raynes desired for sixty francs but not a penny under. Tilly, wild -with delight, felt certain that she could secure this really small sum -of money, and while Margot rode with all the happiness of her joyous -little heart on Starlight and The Desmond rode by her side on the <i>King -of the Desmonds</i> and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> Malachi rode a horse which he called <i>The Pet -Lamb</i> on the other side, these miserable things were being arranged for -the future unhappiness of the little Comtesse.</p> - -<p>The day and the hour arrived. There came an afternoon when, true to his -word, Uncle Jacko, beloved Uncle Jacko, appeared on the scene. Margot -clasped her arms round his neck, kissed him several times and said, -"Has it indeed come?"</p> - -<p>Uncle Jacko replied with that saint-like look on his beautiful face, -"It is the will of the Almighty."</p> - -<p>Fergus suddenly appeared and said to Margot, "Keep silence for a time, -my child; go and nestle into the arms of your grandfather."</p> - -<p>Little Margot went very softly and sadly away. Uncle Jacko and Uncle -Fergus went out into the yard. They found a lonely spot and began to -talk very earnestly together.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I've known all about it from the first," said Fergus Desmond. -"It was not our pushkeen's fault. The Comte St. Juste married beneath -him and behold the result, but it must come to an end. When you start -to-morrow morning for Arles with little Margot, I will go with you, -Jack Mansfield, for I have a word to say to Madame la Comtesse. It is -she who is doing the mischief. She is using our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> little one, our dear -little one, for her own worldly purposes."</p> - -<p>"I have known it also all along," said Uncle Jacko, "but if we can keep -the fact from the two old grandfathers, surely no harm can be done."</p> - -<p>"I don't wish it," said Fergus. "I, too, have my pride. Some day, -I hope a far distant day, she will be the niece of <i>The</i> Desmond. -Understand, I choose not to have a shopkeeper as a niece."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but that matters so very, very little," said Uncle Jacko.</p> - -<p>Fergus gave him a queer smile of non-comprehension.</p> - -<p>"I have made up my mind and I go with you," he said after a long pause, -and thus it was arranged.</p> - -<p>Early the next morning the pushkeen appeared in her grandfather's room, -where he was seated in his high grandfather's chair by a huge fire of -turf.</p> - -<p>"See, see, grand-dad!" said Margot. "See, behold, listen!" She looked -wildly excited and wildly pleased. She was keeping back the sorrow that -was breaking her very heart.</p> - -<p>"See, my own, own, <i>own</i> grandfather," she said, seizing his fingers. -"First, finger one; next, finger two; third, finger three—I go away -for three of these fingers. I come back at the end of that time to my -own darlingest grand-dad. I go at once, at once!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> Oh, grand-dad, kiss -me, love me, love me! Oh, grand-dad, I love you too much to cry. Kiss -me, my best of all grand-dads, kiss me at once."</p> - -<p>The poor astonished Desmond took the child of his heart into his strong -arms. He pressed her close to his heart, he solemnly counted out the -months.</p> - -<p>"You will come back," he said.</p> - -<p>"I will come back, my own, own grand-dad."</p> - -<p>"Three months," he said. "You came to me on the 6th of September, -you will return on the 6th of March. Ah, but surely it is less than -nothing. I do not grieve, The Desmond never grieves. It would be -contrary to his high dignity."</p> - -<p>Then he kissed Margot, although his lips trembled and she ran out into -the great hall, so bare, so empty, so desolate, where all the family, -including Malachi and Madam, were assembled.</p> - -<p>"Don't make a fuss," said the pushkeen. "If you do, perhaps a tear -might force itself out and I'm like The Desmond, I <i>don't</i> cry. Now -then, Malachi, go straight in and talk to grand-dad. Make him laugh -about the horses and keep Starlight quite safe for me and—and darling -grandmother, Madam, do your lovely crochet in the corner where you -always sit and talk about pushkeen and say that I'm so happy and say -that I'm coming back again in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> twink. Now don't kiss me and sob over -me, anyone, for I belong to The Desmond and he <i>never</i> cries."</p> - -<p>All the party assembled in the hall were a little astonished at the -pushkeen's manner, but they let her go without a word, and Malachi went -into the special room provided for The Desmond.</p> - -<p>The old man was cowering over the great turf fire and shivering not a -little. His face was very white. He seemed to show his years. Madam did -not dare to speak to him, but crept to her accustomed corner. Malachi -came close and spoke in a determined voice.</p> - -<p>"Sir, I've been thinking it out."</p> - -<p>"I'm in no mood for your thinking," said The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"But, listen, father, it is very important," said Malachi. "It's about -her little self, the pushkeen that's gone."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk of her or I'll let out on ye," said The Desmond. "I keep my -shillelagh within reach. I'm old, but I can let the shillelagh fly."</p> - -<p>"Ye wouldn't let it fly on your son," replied the young man. "I'm -thinking that you and me will be very busy the next three months -getting ready for her little self."</p> - -<p>"Getting ready, how and what do ye mean?"</p> - -<p>"I thought we might begin to rear a stud of horses for her and sell 'em -and put away the money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> so as to have a bit of a pile ready for her -worthy of her name, and of your name, and when the pile is big enough, -she can take your name Desmond, not the whole of it of course because -that goes to Fergus, but she can be the little pushkeen Desmond. Only -we must set to work at once, you and me, father, a secret all to -ourselves."</p> - -<p>The old man raised his very bright blue eyes.</p> - -<p>"Malachi," he said. "I never heard ye speak a word of sense before, but -there's sense in what ye are talking about now. We must prepare for -the little one's future, and ye are wonderful with the young beasts, -Malachi. We'll go out to the stables at once and talk it over."</p> - -<p>"Yes, father, to be sure," said Malachi.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the other old grandfather, <i>mon</i> grandpère, was waiting in -raptures for the return of <i>la petite</i> Comtesse. He spoke about her -every moment to <i>la</i> Comtesse, <i>la belle</i> grand'mère. He was feeling -very feeble and weak but the thought of his Henri's child returning -to him brought him peace and strength. Meanwhile, during the journey, -Fergus acquainted Uncle Jacko with what he meant to do. The shop must -be put a stop to. They could provide for the little one themselves. She -must not earn money in the shop. Little Margot pretended not to listen, -but in reality she listened very hard. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> - -<p>As they approached the town of Arles, they found that they were in an -empty compartment. All the other passengers had got out at different -stations. Then little Margot turned and spoke. She went straight up to -Uncle Fergus and put her hand on his knee.</p> - -<p>"That time when you thought I was asleep, I was not asleep. I had my -eyes shut, but my ears were open and I heard."</p> - -<p>"Well, what did you hear, pushkeen?" said Fergus, speaking as calmly as -he could.</p> - -<p>"I heard you say to Uncle Jacko that I was not to help <i>ma belle</i> -grand'mère any more in the <i>établissement</i>. But how do you think she -will get on without me? Has she not to take care of <i>mon bon</i> grandpère -and is she not providing a <i>dot</i> for me? And <i>mon</i> grandpère does -not know anything, and he will not know. Listen! I mean to help <i>ma -belle</i> grand'mère. She shall not work for nothing at all—no, she shall -not. Uncle Fergus, The Desmond must never, never know and <i>mon bon</i> -grandpère of Arles must never know. But why should I not help a little?"</p> - -<p>"You are a foolish colleen," replied Fergus, patting the little hand -which rested on his knee.</p> - -<p>That was all Margot could get him to say and she went back to her seat -at the other side of the carriage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> feeling terribly disconsolate. Why -should she not help people? She liked helping people. It was wrong -to oppose her when she was doing right. She felt certain, sure, that -it was wrong. Then she gave a quick side glance at Fergus's face and -noticed the expression on it—the determination, the quiet resolution -to have his own way in spite of <i>la petite</i> Comtesse, or the little -pushkeen as she was called in Ireland.</p> - -<p>At last they arrived. The motor-car met them. They drove to the -Château St. Juste. Ah, but was not M. le Comte glad to see his little -Margot! His black eyes shone, his cheeks grew pink with emotion. Time -seemed not to have stirred since he saw her last. He was lying in his -beautiful cool <i>salon</i> with his pillows of down and his thick soft, -crimson rug of plush.</p> - -<p>The good clergyman sat down and began to talk to him. He took Margot -on his knee and pressed her close to him. During these precious few -minutes he felt that he could indulge in the love and the joy of his -heart. But Fergus was determined to have his way.</p> - -<p>Fergus asked Madame to walk with him in the garden, which was sunny -and bright, but which only held some apples, some pears, and such like -fruits on the old trees. The peaches had vanished, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> bees had gone -into their winter quarters. It was never cold at Arles, but the people -there thought it cold. Anyhow the bees felt that they might rest from -their labours.</p> - -<p>Madame la Comtesse thought Fergus Desmond very handsome. She adored -<i>mon</i> Alphonse, but she enjoyed talking to any handsome man.</p> - -<p>"Thou hast brought <i>la petite</i> back with you, Monsieur," she said.</p> - -<p>"I have," he replied. "It is her French grandfather's turn to have her -for three months. These partings are sore blows. Madame, I would speak -with you."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but I did think so," replied Madame. "Is not life assuredly of the -most miserable unless we speak out our innermost thoughts? Thou hast a -weight on thy mind, Monsieur le Desmond."</p> - -<p>"I have; it is a bad subject, it must be got through. I have learnt -from the lips of John Mansfield, Madame, and also from the lips of a -very nasty girl who goes to the school of a certain princess, that our -little Margot assists you in a shop. It is kept by a certain Madame -Marcelle. But it is in reality your shop. Her grandfather does not -know, neither her French grandfather nor her Irish grandfather. Such -news would kill either of them. Madame, it must cease. The child goes -to her grandfather, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> does not go to you. You must assure me now and -here on your word as an honourable woman that you will never allow the -little Margot to enter the shop of Madame Marcelle, which is in reality -your shop, any more."</p> - -<p>"But listen! Understand, monsieur. May not <i>la petite</i> enter the -apartment where the chapeaux are sold, may not <i>la pauvre chérie</i> buy -a chapeau for herself? Ah, but <i>non, non</i>, you can not say against it, -monsieur. <i>La chère petite</i> must be dressed according to the wishes -of her grandfather and me, and, behold! I am making her <i>dot</i> and it -will be solid—oh a pile, a pile; francs by the thousand, by the tens -of thousands, by the hundreds of thousands! Your little niece will be -<i>très riche</i>, monsieur, but she must be dressed, ah, <i>oui</i>, in the -proper way, monsieur. She wears not now the correct garments for <i>la -petite</i> Comtesse St. Juste, but I was ready for that, and I have a -fresh set of little garments all waiting for her in her <i>chambre de -nuit</i>. You will agree with me, monsieur, <i>n'est-ce pas</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I do not mind what clothes you buy for the child," said Fergus, "if -you promise that she does not sell things herself in the shop."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but you are cruel, and she likes it. One little hour per day, -monsieur. She has the manners, ah, of the <i>grande noblesse</i>, and -behold, the people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> flock to her and she is making her own little -<i>dot</i>, by her own clever speeches, and her own wonderful taste. Permit -it, monsieur, I entreat!"</p> - -<p>"I refuse to permit it," said Fergus. "It must not be. I would rather -she had no <i>dot</i> and was a lady."</p> - -<p>Tears filled the eyes of little Madame.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but indeed, she is a lady the most perfect," was her remark. -"Think, monsieur, consider what I have suffered. I married <i>mon</i> -Alphonse because of the love, oh, so mighty, and because I did so pity -him. He was so beautiful, so desolate, so poor. He was nearly on the -brink of starving, monsieur. Then I come along and I make the wicked -lie. He thinks that I have given up the <i>établissement</i>, I make out -to him that it is so, but I could not give it up, monsieur, and give -him the comforts that he needs, the frail, frail old man. Then there -came as a ray of sunshine to his heart <i>la petite</i> Comtesse, the only -child of his only son, and behold he revived! And I took <i>la petite</i> -Comtesse into my <i>établissement</i> and behold! She had the taste superb. -The chapeaux they went like the wind, the fans like the whirlwinds, -the robes they vanished as you looked, and all because of <i>la petite</i> -Margot and her immaculate taste. She is well taught, monsieur, also. -She has masters for French and dancing and the piano and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> singing. Only -a little of the singing, she is too young at present. She spends but -two hours a day in the <i>établissement</i>, and behold it flourishes as -it never did before, and neither of the grandpères know. Where is the -harm, Monsieur Desmond? Why conceal a talent so great? Madame Marcelle -cannot attempt to dispose of my goods as <i>la petite</i> Comtesse does. You -see the thing is honourable, <i>n'est-ce pas</i>, Monsieur Desmond?"</p> - -<p>"I do not. I forbid it," said Fergus. "We care not for fine clothes in -Ireland and a little money goes a long way. What we want is to keep up -our great, great nobility. You understand, Madame, have I your word -that it shall cease?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui, oui</i>, if it must be, it must," said Madame. She spoke in -a gay, light sort of voice and picked a luscious pear, which she -presented to Monsieur Desmond as a token of her unfailing esteem.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVIII.</span> <span class="smaller">THE GREEN HAT.</span></h2> - -<p>There was a strange sort of feeling in the breast of little Margot as -she bade Uncle Fergus good-bye. When he took her in his arms he said,</p> - -<p>"It's all settled, pushkeen, and you are to do as I wish."</p> - -<p>Then Uncle Jacko, with his gentle, angel sort of face, kissed the child -very tenderly and said,</p> - -<p>"You'll do your duty at any cost, my little colleen."</p> - -<p>After that the two men went away and Margot was left with grandpère and -<i>la belle</i> grand'mère. She felt a little bewildered. She could not help -repeating over and over to herself, "I am sorry to come back. I would -rather be with The Desmond than anyone else in the wide, wide world," -but she was learning self-control and was growing a tiny bit older than -her years. She had, however, in her grave, steadfast sort of fashion -quite made up her mind.</p> - -<p>Grandpère should know nothing about <i>la belle</i> grand'mère being helped. -She, Margot, <i>would</i> help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> her. She kept these thoughts, however, quite -to herself and <i>la belle</i> grand'mère talked rapidly of the handsome -appearance of the Irish Desmond and how most truly he fascinated the -heart.</p> - -<p>Little Margot took no notice of this. She was absorbed in comforting -grandpère. He certainly looked very old indeed in comparison with The -Desmond. His black eyes had sunk further into his head, but he was -rejoiced beyond words to have the child of his only son with him, and -he kept patting her hand and saying,</p> - -<p>"<i>Très bien, la petite</i>, thou blessed one, thou angel, thou little -cabbage."</p> - -<p>Margot did not feel in the least like an angel, but nevertheless she -was determined to do her very utmost for grandpère and on his account -for <i>la belle</i> grand'mère.</p> - -<p>Madame la Comtesse, true to her word, had provided the most ravishing -little costumes for <i>la petite</i> to wear, and <i>la petite</i> felt that -the time had come when she might without any difficulty put on the -pretty garments, which would be disliked and disapproved of at dear old -Desmondstown. Her soft black hair, rippling, curling, flowing, fell -far below her waist. Her small feet were encased in shoes of the most -perfect and softest kid. This kid was of a delicate shade of blue. Her -open-work stockings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> were to match her shoes. Then there was a little -pale blue embroidered short frock, very simple, but oh, according to -Madame and grandpère, <i>superb</i>.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, <i>la belle</i> grand'mère had not trusted Madame -Marcelle, but had sent to Paris for the little costume. The child -danced about the room in delight, the old man's eyes glistened, Madame -felt tears somewhere near her own eyes, but Margot of the Desmonds -did not attempt to cry. It was not according to her ideas, <i>comme il -faut</i>—oh, by no means at all, <i>comme il faut</i>.</p> - -<p>At last grandpère got tired and went to bed, then Margot went up to <i>la -belle</i> grand'mère,</p> - -<p>"I'm going to do it," she said. "I'm going to help you."</p> - -<p>"Thou blessed <i>enfant</i>!" exclaimed Madame. "Ah, <i>mon Dieu</i>, but thou -art of the very best; distinguished is no word. Repose thyself, <i>mon -enfant</i>. Thy dainty room is ready for thee, <i>petite</i>. To-morrow we will -talk."</p> - -<p>"No," said Margot, "we will talk to-night. Now, this instant! We will -settle, we will arrange, we will not put off. For me, I am under no -promise. Thou dost want me in the <i>établissement</i>, I will go there for -two hours each day. Thou and I between us will look after the old, very -old grandpère. Thou art <i>trop fatiguée</i> to do it all by thyself." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ah, but thou art a true poem, a romance!" exclaimed the delighted -Madame. "And wilt thou really serve in the <i>établissement, petite</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I will on one condition," replied Margot. "Neither of my grandfathers -must ever know. I told Uncle Fergus what I thought right and fair. He -did not agree and I am sorry, for I love him. But now for three months -I will help thee, <i>ma belle</i> grand'mère."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but thou art of the blessed," said the Comtesse. "Do not the -angels sing of thee? Have they not this very night sung a new song to -their harps on account of thee, <i>ma petite</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I care not in the least what the angels do," said Margot, "but I want -to help thee and grandpère. I will do it, too. To-morrow I will begin. -Two hours daily, except Sunday, when I kneel in my room and pray to -the good God; the rest of the time I learn of the French—yes—of -the music—yes—of the dancing—yes! Now I will repose as thou dost -suggest, <i>ma belle</i> grand'mère, for I am weary, not having slept, I may -say, anything at all last night."</p> - -<p>"Ah, thou blessed one, I will take thee to thy room," said Madame.</p> - -<p>Margot undressed quickly and got into bed, a smile on her face. She had -a strange feeling that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> she was doing right, that this was an occasion -when it was her bounden duty to resist dear Uncle Fergus and help la -Comtesse. She little guessed, however, that there was a certain girl, -well known in the school of la Princesse de Fleury, namely, Louise -Grognan, the daughter of Grognan the owner of the big restaurant in -the Boulevard des Italiens—she little knew that this young person was -watching her and intended for her own purposes to spoil what she called -the fun of the little shopkeeper.</p> - -<p>Accordingly the next day, when Margot was busy over her duties as -saleswoman, Louise Grognan entered the shop. She came straight up -to Margot and asked her in a harsh, unpleasant sort of voice for a -chapeau, and she was to be <i>vite</i>.</p> - -<p>Margot smiled in her gentle, pleasant way, said she was busy for the -time being, but if Mademoiselle Grognan would wait for a few minutes -she would take her to the <i>apartement</i> where the chapeaux were sold.</p> - -<p>Louise frowned a little, felt decidedly cross, but after a time decided -to wait. She was catching the little shopkeeper in the act. Nothing -could be more agreeable.</p> - -<p>Perhaps never before had little Margot St. Juste looked more beautiful -than she did on this occasion. There was the spirit of self-denial in -her charming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> little face. She was doing what she was doing for others -and not for herself. Her appearance, too, was remarkably striking. -Madame had dressed the little girl on this occasion in a soft crimson -robe, much embroidered, with stockings and dainty shoes to match.</p> - -<p>The beautiful child attracted the attention of everyone.</p> - -<p>"Behold la Comtesse! Behold la Comtesse!" echoed from end to end of the -great <i>établissement</i>.</p> - -<p>"Now, thou, <i>chérie</i>, shalt be dressed according to thy needs," said a -happy mother to a blushing daughter.</p> - -<p>"And thou, Carlice, shalt wear what suits thee at long last," said an -ungainly aunt to an equally ungainly niece. "Ah, but she has the taste, -the little Comtesse!"</p> - -<p>On all sides there were sounds of rejoicing and pleasure at seeing the -pretty child back again. Margot heard the words, but she had all the -dignity of her race. She told Madame Coquenne and Madame Lise that she -would be with them soon, as soon as possible, and then she went off to -attend to Louise Grognan.</p> - -<p>"I want a chapeau," said Louise. "You put on wonderful airs, Margot, -seeing you are only a shopkeeper."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> - -<p>Margot looked at Louise out of her beautiful, deep, loving eyes.</p> - -<p>"Do you want to say unkind things to me, Louise?" she remarked. "<i>Ma -belle</i> grand'mère wishes me to help her a little and I am willing to do -it, for she is overworked, but <i>mon bon</i> grandpère he knows nothing, he -thinks me a fine lady, la Comtesse St. Juste. I consider that a fine -lady is the one who does best her duty."</p> - -<p>"Are you coming back to our school?" interrupted Louise.</p> - -<p>"No, I'm too busy for the school."</p> - -<p>"Ah, I thought as much. Besides, we do not take shopkeepers at our -school."</p> - -<p>"But thy <i>bon père</i> is a restaurant keeper. I see not the difference."</p> - -<p>Louise gave an angry clench of her little fists.</p> - -<p>"Dost thou not know, <i>petite fille</i>, that I myself keep no restaurant -personally? <i>Mon père</i>, he works for me; the difference is wide, -immense."</p> - -<p>"<i>Mon père est mort</i>," answered Margot in a sad voice. "Thou didst ask -for a chapeau. Wilt thou select?"</p> - -<p>Louise chose a very tall, beehive-shaped head-dress of vivid green, -trimmed with quantities of grass of the same shade. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It will not suit thee, Louise," said Margot, in her gentle, -fascinating voice.</p> - -<p>"Well, what wouldst thou suggest?" asked Louise, who was too well aware -of the excellence of Margot's taste to dare to despise it.</p> - -<p>"I would dress thee so," said Margot, and she produced a soft, black -hat, very soft, very light, which could be turned up at the side and -into which Margot arranged a little piece of ribbon, bright, soft, -crimson, which made an arresting note in the blackness of the hat.</p> - -<p>"Behold, here is thy chapeau!" said Margot.</p> - -<p>Louise pouted a little, looked longingly at the grass-green hat, but -finally succumbed to the black hat with the crimson ribbon.</p> - -<p>Margot brought her before a large mirror and made her see herself in -both hats.</p> - -<p>"Ah, bah, thou must not be seen in that!" she said, flinging the -grass-green chapeau aside. "Now behold the other hat! The complexion -it softens, the eyes they glow, the crimson note of colour softens the -colour in thy lips and cheeks. It is <i>très beau</i> that chapeau; it suits -thee, Louise. It is my wish that thou shouldst wear it."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>c'est bien</i>," exclaimed Louise. "But the price, the price must be -low."</p> - -<p>"One hundred and fifty francs," said Margot, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> a calm, steady voice, -"not a penny less, not a penny more. Behold the quality of the black, -look for thyself at the shape, see how the ribbon entwines itself, -just enough and no more, as I have placed it. One hundred and fifty -francs—I have spoken."</p> - -<p>"I cannot pay you now," said Louise. "You will let it lie against my -little account."</p> - -<p>"<i>Non, non</i>, that I never do," said Margot. "Those who buy from <i>la -petite</i> Comtesse pay as they buy. Thou mayst, if thou dost please, -Louise, buy a chapeau of Madame Marcelle; but for me, I take my black -hat to another customer. She is looking at it with eyes that devour."</p> - -<p>Certainly Louise Grognan felt inclined to stamp her feet, to rage, to -utter a wicked little swear; but Margot did not take the least notice. -She sold the beautiful black hat to a striking-looking American girl, -and the grass-green hat was purchased by Louise and put down to the -account of the said young lady by Madame Marcelle.</p> - -<p>Now, indeed, her anger was at its height. She hated little Margot -because she could not in the least compete with her. The grave dignity -of the child was beyond her power to emulate. She of the people could -not imitate that other one of the aristocrats. She might call her the -little shopkeeper as much as she liked, but she really was <i>la petite</i> -Comtesse and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> not only the assistants in the <i>établissement</i> adored -her, but all the customers insisted on having <i>la petite</i> Comtesse to -serve them.</p> - -<p>Louise was now ripe for revenge. She hated the handsome child, who was -so grave, so firm and dignified and full of that resolve which can only -be called by its true name, the tone of the aristocrats.</p> - -<p>Well, well, at least Louise should have her revenge. She wrote a long -letter to Tilly Raynes, telling her that she had caught Marguerite in -the act, and she was only waiting for her opportunity to communicate -with M. le Comte St. Juste. She thought also that it might help her a -little if Tilly would give her the address of the Irish grandpère, who -was also so eaten up with pride.</p> - -<p>Tilly wrote immediately, giving the full address of The Desmond of -Desmondstown.</p> - -<p>"I know no such name as The," thought Louise. "I will call him Monsieur -Desmond. He shall get the letter as soon as possible. I will write the -letter to-day; the day after to-morrow I will visit le Comte."</p> - -<p>Accordingly she wrote in her broken English to Monsieur Desmond at -Desmondstown in the County of Kerry, Ireland, but the letter fell into -the hands of Fergus. He read it as best he could, smiled a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> little at -the invincible spirit of the pushkeen and then tore the letter into -little fragments.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Louise took the opportunity to ask la Princesse de Fleury to -allow her to go to see her father at the Boulevard des Italiens. La -Princesse was always ready to oblige. She said the girl might have a -half-holiday, but must be back by six o'clock.</p> - -<p>Louise put on her hideous grass-green hat and set out in high spirits. -The walk from the town of Arles to the Château St. Juste was a good -mile in length. Louise said to herself how thoroughly she would enjoy -bowing that pride of the dreadful old man to the dust. Even in the -beautiful town of Arles it was not very warm now. Winter was setting in -with rigor, so the people of the south of France thought, although the -hedges were covered with roses and climbing geraniums, and everywhere -the air was perfect with the delicious smell of violets.</p> - -<p>Louise had made careful enquiries and knew that she would arrive at the -château when Margot and <i>la belle</i> grand'mère were out. She was not -accustomed to much walking, however, and her steps went slowly. What -was to become of the little shopkeeper when she had fully explained her -story? She thought that at the very least <i>la petite</i> Comtesse would -be dismissed, disgraced, sent back to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> those Irish people, who were -so wild and ugly and indifferent and even <i>they</i> would not receive -her, for she had been told that their pride was of the greatest, and -Monsieur Desmond must have got her letter or certainly would get it -before Margot arrived.</p> - -<p>Ah, well, truly had she earned her sixty francs and the grass-green hat -was very pretty according to her own ideas. She arrived at the gates of -the old château. They were opened to her by a tiny Frenchwoman, whom -Madame la Comtesse had placed at the lodge.</p> - -<p>She walked up the perfectly kept avenue and smelt more strongly than -ever the perfume of the violets, the scent of the roses, and the scent -also of the sweet pink geraniums which fell in clusters round the -trees, helping to adorn the few that were leafless, but most of the -trees were olives and they were now in their bloom. Certainly the home -of Monsieur le Comte was very perfect.</p> - -<p>She reached the front door and pressed the electric bell. A man in the -livery of the St. Justes replied at once to her summons.</p> - -<p>Louise made her request.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>non, non, ce n'est pas possible</i>. Madame she is out and <i>la -petite</i> Comtesse is also out," replied the footman.</p> - -<p>"I want to see Monsieur le Comte," said Louise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> "I have a message to -give him of great importance with regard to his granddaughter."</p> - -<p>The man looked hard, very hard indeed at Louise. He longed to ask, "Is -it a message of the serious?" but he restrained himself.</p> - -<p>"I will enquire," he said. "<i>Restez tranquille</i>, Mademoiselle, I have -before now eaten of your father's sweetmeats the most superb! Ah, but -they melt in the mouth! Behold, a chair, Mademoiselle! I will take your -message to the Comte, if it is really not one to do him any injury."</p> - -<p>"No, no, he ought to know," said Louise. "It will save him trouble in -the future. Go and, behold, if you succeed I will get my father to send -you a box of his best chocolates!"</p> - -<p>The man gazed again at the queer-looking girl and finally retired into -the <i>salon</i> where M. le Comte was calmly resting.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte was very happy—his beloved Madame was nearly always by his -side, and now he had almost three months of <i>la petite</i> before him. The -adored <i>la petite</i>! Could any aged man be happier than he? He did not -mind his feeling of weakness, the rapid approach of extreme old age did -not trouble him. He was happy in the gentle, soothing present. What -else mattered, what else could matter? </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> - -<p>He was interrupted when Gustave came in with his message.</p> - -<p>"I want you not, go!" he said. "See you not that I arrange myself -for repose? Go, and leave me in peace! I see no one when my wife and -granddaughter are away."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but you will see me," said Louise, suddenly bursting into the -room, her grass-green hat all awry, her features flushed, her small -eyes full of a delighted vengeance.</p> - -<p>"I have come about your <i>petite</i> Comtesse," said Louise. "See, behold, -you will listen!"</p> - -<p>"Leave us, Gustave," said le Comte, and Gustave closed the door and -applied his ear with great skill to the key-hole.</p> - -<p>"What have you come about?" said the Comte in a voice of high -displeasure. "This is my hour for repose. I see no strangers, more -particularly those like yourself."</p> - -<p>The eyes of Louise flashed with anger.</p> - -<p>"If I suit not your taste, old man," she said, "you have but your -granddaughter to blame. She sold me my chapeau in the <i>établissement</i> -of your good wife. She goes there each day. Ask her, she cannot deny!"</p> - -<p>The Comte felt very queer and sick, a kind of giddiness came over -him, that terrible faintness from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> which at times he suffered was -approaching, the world looked very dark.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he pulled himself together. He found his eyes fixed on the -hideous grass-green hat, never surely could his little Margot sell -anything so frightful to so low-down a customer.</p> - -<p>"Leave me, I feel faint," he said. "Send to me my man Gustave, and go! -I command you to go at once!"</p> - -<p>Louise looked wildly round her, but the grass-green hat kept on doing -its work, it was quite impossible for M. le Comte to believe her story; -it was out of his power even for an instant to suppose that the little -hands he loved could have touched anything so impossible.</p> - -<p>"You tell lies, my good girl," he said. "It may be possible that you -will drop down dead like Sapphira, who followed the example of Ananias, -her husband. Go quickly, before my anger begins to boil. Hasten before -I attack you with a pistol! There are times when I lose self-control, -and that chapeau—<i>mon Dieu</i>! That chapeau! Go at once, I beseech of -you, before I do an injury, which may mean <i>la mort</i>!"</p> - -<p>Louise was by now thoroughly frightened. The grand, disdainful manner -of <i>la petite</i> Comtesse was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> nothing to the terrifying manner of le -Comte himself.</p> - -<p>She did not even wait to speak to Gustave; a shower began to fall from -the heavens, and her grass-green hat marked her face with grass-green -tints the reverse of becoming as she hurried down the avenue. The woman -at the lodge laughed as she saw her, but she was good-natured and did -not want to see anyone in trouble.</p> - -<p>"Madame la Comtesse and <i>la petite</i> Comtesse Margot are out," she said. -"I knew well you would have your walk for nothing; but behold! you -shall enter my humble dwelling. Le chapeau, why it is a figure of fun. -Where did you buy it, Mam'selle?"</p> - -<p>Louise was too cross to reply, but she was not too cross to accept the -shelter of the little lodge which was offered to her. She was not there -two or three minutes before who should walk in but Madame.</p> - -<p>Madame la Comtesse looked very charming. She stared fixedly at Louise -and Louise sprang to her feet.</p> - -<p>"I must speak to you," she said. "I must talk words all alone."</p> - -<p>"I mind not," said la Comtesse. "You will leave us, Susette!"</p> - -<p>"Then listen—you are a lying woman," said Louise, "and your -granddaughter, she serves in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> <i>établissement</i> of Madame Marcelle. -Behold for yourself, she sold me this chapeau!"</p> - -<p>"Never, never!" cried Madame. "But we will prove it. Come with me now -in my motor-car to the <i>établissement</i> of Madame Marcelle. She tells -the truth in very deed."</p> - -<p>Louise did not seem to mind, a pleased smile wreathed her face.</p> - -<p>"You are the daughter of Grognan, the restaurant-keeper," remarked -Madame.</p> - -<p>"I am, I make no bones about it. I am proud of it, and of <i>mon père</i>."</p> - -<p>"In that you are right," exclaimed Madame. "Ah, how quickly we move, -and the rain falls in torrents. <i>Ma petite</i> Comtesse, <i>ma chère petite</i> -Comtesse is now enjoying her lessons of the French. I do not recognize -that chapeau as one belonging to the <i>établissement</i> of Madame -Marcelle."</p> - -<p>"It was your granddaughter sold it to me," said Louise.</p> - -<p>"That is impossible," said Madame, calmly, "but we will soon find out. -What were you doing in the lodge belonging to the château?"</p> - -<p>"The woman gave me shelter," said Louise. "I had gone to acquaint M. le -Comte with the fact that you kept a shop and <i>la petite</i> Comtesse was -the little shopkeeper." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And you saw <i>mon</i> Alphonse?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui, oui</i>," cried Louise, beginning to enjoy herself.</p> - -<p>Madame pulled the check-string and desired the chauffeur to fly—to put -on all the speed possible. Soon they reached the <i>établissement</i>.</p> - -<p>"Who sold this chapeau to Mademoiselle Grognan?" enquired la Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"I did," said Madame Marcelle. "She has not paid for it yet."</p> - -<p>"I admit no debts in the <i>établissement</i>," exclaimed Madame la -Comtesse. "Madame Marcelle, why did you allow such an ugly thing into -<i>le magasin</i>?"</p> - -<p>"It came by mistake," replied the poor, confused Madame. "The -mademoiselle liked it and I sold it to her. I only charged her forty -francs, for I thought it so ugly."</p> - -<p>"It is a screaming farce," said Madame la Comtesse. "Go back, -Mademoiselle. I will write this evening to <i>votre père</i>, the -restaurant-keeper, for the money."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but it pours, it drenches," cried Louise.</p> - -<p>"I care not, nay more, I am glad," said Madame.</p> - -<p>"You went with intention to act cruelly to me and mine. Madame -Marcelle, come back with me at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> once to the château—at once, at once! -Let the assistants serve here for the rest of the day."</p> - -<p>Thus and in this fashion was Mademoiselle served for her evil conduct. -Thus was she severely reprimanded by Grognan the restaurant-keeper, and -thus did Madame Marcelle explain to the much troubled Comte who had -really sold the chapeau to Mam'selle.</p> - -<p>"It was the chapeau that saved me," said the old Comte. "I was sinking -into one of my worst faints, which are to the life of the aged so -dangerous, when I looked at the chapeau and knew it could not be. <i>Ma -petite chérie</i> could not act as that wicked daughter of the people -would try to make me believe."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>non</i>, M. le Comte," exclaimed Madame Marcelle, "the dignity of -<i>la petite</i> is of the marvellous. When she enters my <i>établissement</i>, -simply to <i>buy</i>, thou dost understand, every one turns to look at the -beautiful <i>enfant</i>. She chooses for herself and her taste is superb."</p> - -<p>"Then that girl told a cruel lie," said the Comte.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>certainement</i>, monsieur."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIX.</span> <span class="smaller">LE CABINET DE BEAUTÉ.</span></h2> - -<p>But little Margot was not to get off quite so easily. She was to have -her <i>trials</i> the same as other people. There was not the slightest -doubt whatsoever that Margot had a nature far above the ordinary. It -was strong, it was brave, it had a sort of noble simplicity about -it. She was proud of her race, both on her father's and her mother's -side, but she could not see the slightest harm in assisting <i>la belle</i> -grand'mère with the <i>établissement</i>. She did see, however, a good deal -of harm in annoying, nay more, in seriously injuring, the lives of two -dear old men, both of them in their own way the dearest old men in the -world. Of course The Desmond was the best of all—he was grand, noble, -superb; but there was also something <i>très magnifique</i>, according -to <i>la belle</i> grand'mère, in Monsieur le Comte St. Juste. He was so -feeble, too, and so old; he must not be hurt for anything in the world.</p> - -<p>Margot thought nothing whatsoever about her supposed <i>dot</i>, but she -sympathised with la belle <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>grand'mère in keeping all knowledge of <i>le -magasin</i> from M. le Comte. The little Madame idolised the sweet girl, -and poured her troubles into those sympathetic ears.</p> - -<p>"Behold, behold!" she cried. "There would not be <i>l'argent</i> for <i>mon</i> -Alphonse if thou didst not do thy noble best; if I did not keep the -<i>établissement</i> going. He wants his comforts, that aged and beloved -one."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui, je comprens</i>," said little Margot.</p> - -<p>And she did comprehend, and kept her word.</p> - -<p>After a few weeks had gone by, Madame la Comtesse gave orders to her -servants not to admit anyone, old or young, man or woman, into the -presence of M. le Comte. The servants assured her that they would obey -her to the very letter. They loved her because she was so bright and -gay and obliging. They did not in the least mind whether she kept a -<i>magasin</i> or not. Did she not load them with gifts? Was there ever -quite so good a place to serve in as the Château St. Juste?</p> - -<p>Yes, they loved Madame, and they adored <i>la petite</i> Comtesse.</p> - -<p>But it so happened that the old M. le Comte, lying against his pillows -of down, thought a great deal about his granddaughter. Henri was indeed -a boy to be proud of, but after all he was nothing to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> <i>la petite</i>. -He wasted <i>l'argent</i>; <i>la petite</i> seemed never to spend anything. Was -justice being done to this charming little creature by the father of -Henri? He troubled himself about this. He became anxious.</p> - -<p>One day he spoke to Madame la Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"Madame," he said, "thou hast given up thy <i>établissement</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui</i>, <i>certainement</i>, Alphonse," was the quick answer of Madame.</p> - -<p>"Tell me now from the bottom of thy heart, Madame, what provision we -can make for <i>la petite</i> Comtesse."</p> - -<p>Madame named a sum which certainly staggered the old man.</p> - -<p>"Thou must be <i>très riche</i>," he said.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui</i>, it is the will of God!" replied Madame. Then she added, -stroking his silvery hair and laying her piquant face close to his. -"Dost thou not remember, thou superb, angelic one, that on the day we -received la Comtesse, a notary came and settled on her the sum I have -mentioned?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui</i>," answered M. le Comte. "I remember and yet I forget. The -aged, they always forget. It is the trial of old age not to remember."</p> - -<p>"It is <i>un fait accompli</i>," said Madame. "Fret not thyself, <i>chère</i> -Alphonse."</p> - -<p>The old Comte smiled. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I like to think of our little one," he said, "always and ever -surrounded by the luxuries of life. When she is older, much older, we -will marry her to a man, young and beautiful and of great rank. She is -worthy of the best and she shall have the best."</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais oui, mais oui</i>," answered Madame.</p> - -<p>"But I have been thinking," pursued M. le Comte, "that her education is -not progressing. We could not permit her to return to the school, where -that ugly M'selle was taught to tell the black lies."</p> - -<p>"<i>Non</i>," said Madame. "<i>Certainement, non.</i>"</p> - -<p>"But I want her to go to a school," said M. le Comte. "Why dost thou -frown, my adored Ninon?"</p> - -<p>"Because I am thinking," she replied. "There is but one school in Arles -worthy of <i>la petite</i>, and that is held by la Princesse de Pleury; but -alas, even that school is not what it used to be. There used to be -there only <i>les demoiselles</i> the most refined, the highest in rank."</p> - -<p>"Not the grass-green, ha! ha!" laughed the Comte.</p> - -<p>"Thou art right, my adored one, not the grass-green. I, too, have -thought of the education of <i>la petite</i>. It is of the utmost -importance. Why not place her in the hands of a <i>gouvernante</i>? There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> -is one, M'selle de Close. She is connected with M'selle de Blanc. She -is of high rank and of great intelligence, and between M'selle de Close -and M'selle de Blanc, we can have <i>la petite</i> taught in this, thine own -château, all the things that belong to the best society."</p> - -<p>"Of what age are those M'selles?" asked the Comte.</p> - -<p>"M'selle de Close is eighteen; M'selle le Blanc one year more. They are -young, but they are finished—ah, to the most complete!"</p> - -<p>"And what knowledge can they impart?" asked M. le Comte.</p> - -<p>"They'll teach her all those things that a young M'selle should know. -They will keep her mind, mark you, M. le Comte, as white as a white -marguerite, and they will impart to her those graces of society which -are essential to <i>le bon mari</i> by-and-bye. They can come here day -about, at two of the clock, and spend until four with <i>la petite</i>."</p> - -<p>"Send them to me one at a time," said the Comte, "and let me interview -them alone."</p> - -<p>Accordingly Madame la Comtesse went that very day to a unique and -charming little flat in a unique and charming part of Arles. It was -called "<i>Le Cabinet de Beauté</i>. The lady who entered the room on the -arrival of Madame called herself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> Félicité. She held up her hands, -arched her brows and said:</p> - -<p>"Ah, Madame, have you come to me indeed? Have you come at last, that -I may perform on you my art? Behold how little it is, and how much. -It finishes never, see, Madame? Behold, I will mark out to you your -day! You must have the <i>chocolat</i>, you must rise never later than -eight o'clock, and promenade on foot for <i>les douches</i>. This exercise -preserves the form. Then, behold, the masseuse appears and makes -miracles of the hands. Afterwards you rest as is necessary, and M'selle -Blanc does the rest. Ah, but she is a veritable artist is M'selle -Blanc. You want us; you have come. I am at your feet, beautiful Madame!"</p> - -<p>"I want you not at all," said Madame la Comtesse. "The good God himself -has given unto me the cheeks of roses and the eyes so bright and the -figure so straight. But behold, listen! There is <i>ma petite</i>, the idol -of her grandfather, the adored of her <i>belle</i> grand'mère. M. le Comte -knows nothing of my <i>établissement</i>, and he must never know, never, -never! There are things which all women of fashion learn, and I want -you, M'selle Close, and that other gracious lady, M'selle Blanc, to -come day about to the château in order to instruct <i>la petite</i>, but -you must not touch on the make up, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span><i>comprenez-vous</i>? It would be -fatal. <i>L'enfant toujours</i>; that mind so white must be kept white; but -you must teach her, M'selle Close, such things as the English and the -French and the German and the <i>géographie</i> for two hours every other -day, and on the other days, M'selle Blanc shall teach her. You must be -at the château for two hours each day, but before anything is firmly -established, you must go to the château and acquaint M. le Comte with -the fact that you are a poor <i>gouvernante</i>, one of the high nobility. -You must present yourself to him as M'selle de Close, and your friend -must be M'selle de Blanc; and I will pay you well, ah well; that is, -if you keep strictly to your post; keep firmly to the lessons which I -have set you—the white heart to be kept white; the holy things to be -instructed to <i>la petite</i>, <i>comprenez-vous</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui</i>," said M'selle Close. "And you will pay well, Comtesse?"</p> - -<p>"According to your merits will I pay. I care not how much, so long as -it pleases <i>mon mari</i>. Get ready at once and I will drive you, M'selle -Close, to the Château St. Juste."</p> - -<p>M'selle certainly saw a good thing before her. She dressed according to -the directions of Madame very simply and quietly. She removed the rouge -from her cheeks and the artificial darkness from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> beneath her eyes. She -was no longer a pretty woman, but she was, according to Madame, one -with <i>l'air distingué</i>.</p> - -<p>Soon they reached the château. Little Margot had not yet returned home. -She was at her dancing class and was perfectly happy.</p> - -<p>Madame rushed gaily into the presence of <i>mon</i> Alphonse.</p> - -<p>"I have found her and she is a treasure. Listen, harken, she belongs to -the nobility. She is M'selle de Close. Her friend also is M'selle de -Blanc. She is poor, but she is simple, aristocratic, learned. She will -teach thy granddaughter for two hours every second day. On alternate -days M'selle de Blanc will do likewise. I have brought her back with me -for thee to see."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but I am tired!" said the Comte. "I did not know that thou wouldst -be <i>si vite, ma</i> Comtesse."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but <i>vite</i> is the word," cried la Comtesse; "for youth it flies, -months go by, years go by. Behold, whilst thou art looking round, -taking a little nap—ah, no more, just a little nap, <i>la petite</i> will -grow up. Wilt thou, then, see M'selle de Close?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, thou art ever right, Comtesse," replied the old Comte. "Present -me to M'selle. I will treat her with that courtesy which a lady should -receive." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> - -<p>Now M'selle Close, as she was really called knew well where her bread -was buttered, and she was in consequence quite able to answer the -enquiries made by that gracious and most aristocratic old person, M. le -Comte.</p> - -<p>"I will try you for one month," he said. "You will be here at two to -the minute to-morrow, and then, behold! it will be my pleasure to be -present while you instruct my granddaughter."</p> - -<p>But here M'selle drew up her head in a very haughty way.</p> - -<p>"Alas, M. le Comte," she said. "I am poor and low in the world, but I -have my little pride, my last rag of possession. I share that rag with -my beloved friend, M'selle de Blanc. We could not be treated as though -we meant to impart evil, we must be trusted or we can do nothing. We -must decline this generous offer of yours, M. le Comte, unless we are -treated as ladies of rank. <i>La petite</i> Comtesse will not suffer at our -hands, but we must teach her each in our turn alone. Is it to be, M. le -Comte? For there is the house of one who seeks our services, and we can -go there if you do not permit."</p> - -<p>"For one month I permit," said the Comte. "I did not mean to hurt -your feelings, M'selle. I was only full of interest at the thought of -listening to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> the knowledge which you will pour into the ears of <i>la -petite</i> Comtesse."</p> - -<p>"Ah, well, M'sieur, I cannot change, I await your decision."</p> - -<p>"You shall teach her alone," said M. le Comte. "Send your friend to see -me to-morrow and come yourself as arranged, to begin those instructions -which demoiselles of rank require."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui</i>, M'sieur, <i>oui</i>, you indeed belong, as I do myself, to the -<i>ancienne noblesse</i>."</p> - -<p>The arrangement was quickly arrived at. The two ladies were interviewed -by M'sieur le Comte, and both completely had their own way with him. -Madame la Comtesse had a little talk with Margot, and on a certain -Thursday the lessons so unique and perfect began.</p> - -<p>Unique and perfect they were not, but they interested Margot, who -listened with the colour rising to her cheeks and her velvety -black-brown eyes fixed on the faces of her teachers. She still pursued -her French in the town of Arles and talked it with M'selles de Close -and de Blanc. She also read a little history, all in the French tongue, -but occasionally her lovely eyes were fixed with a sort of dull -amazement on the faces of these faded women, who no longer dressed to -captivate their customers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> at the <i>Cabinet de Beauté</i>, showed their -true age which was anything but young.</p> - -<p>When the first week was over and the ladies had departed, little Margot -skipped into her grandfather's room, flung herself on her knees by his -side, and told him about <i>les pauvres gouvernantes</i>.</p> - -<p>"Dost thou like them, my little one?" asked M. le Comte.</p> - -<p>"No, grandpère," was the reply.</p> - -<p>"Why dost thou say that? Thy words arrest and alarm me."</p> - -<p>"They are only wooden dolls," said <i>la petite</i> Comtesse. "They have no -thoughts. I do not think they can instruct me, for I—I wish not to be -vain, but I know more than they do."</p> - -<p>M. le Comte was much distressed at hearing this.</p> - -<p>"I like thy teaching best, grandpère. Tell them to go and come back no -more."</p> - -<p>"I have engaged them for a month, <i>ma pauvre petite</i>. Thou must even -bear with them for a month, <i>mon ange</i>, and then they shall go. But say -not to them that they shall go!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Non, non, mon</i> grandpère, not for the world," said Margot.</p> - -<p>The month came to an end. Margot endured it because she began to teach -the aged, ignorant governesses herself. She found the task quite -agreeable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> and did not mind what the ladies felt; in fact, they were -fascinated by her talk and found her pretty speeches and gay manners -truly diverting. They were earning large sums of money and had nothing -to do. They were not teaching, they were being taught.</p> - -<p>At last the day came when the thunderbolt fell. Margot was sent up to -her room. The two ladies arrived in a hurry together by special request -of M. le Comte.</p> - -<p>Madame looked at them with anxious eyes. "I did not know that you were -quite so ignorant, Félicité," she said, "nor you, Thérèse. I have given -<i>mon mari l'argent</i> to pay you both, but my poor friends, behold, you -must come here no more!"</p> - -<p>The astonished ladies were received by M. le Comte. He received them -civilly but with a certain distance. He said he had other views for <i>la -petite</i>. He paid them their month's money, which Madame had given him -for the purpose, and they walked down the neatly kept avenue, burning -rage in their hearts. Why had they made themselves so ugly for so poor -a reward? Suddenly, as they were approaching Arles, hoping not to be -recognised, whom should they see coming to meet them but several girls -belonging to the school of la Princesse de Fleury! Amongst these girls -was Louise Grognan.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> Most of the girls took no notice whatsoever of the -faded-looking old ladies, but Louise recognised them. Quick as thought -she made up her mind. She said a word to her companion, explained that -she knew the <i>chères demoiselles</i>, and presently was walking by their -sides.</p> - -<p>"You keep the <i>Cabinet de Beauté</i>?" she said.</p> - -<p>"We do and we have almost ruined ourselves for nothing," said M'selle -Close. Tears crept between her eyelids.</p> - -<p>"Tell me everything," said Louise, "and perhaps I can help."</p> - -<p>"You! How can you possibly help?"</p> - -<p>"Well, at least tell me; I will do my best."</p> - -<p>So the old ladies described how they had to give up their profession. -They could no longer use the masseuse on the hand nor the rouge on -the cheeks. They could no longer direct as they used to do, the daily -programme of their pupils. Everything was at an end because, forsooth, -Madame la Comtesse St. Juste required the best part of the day for -one of these ladies; turn about truly, ah, yes, turn about, to teach -<i>la petite</i> Comtesse. But, behold, they could not teach. It was true, -alas, more than true! They could give vast instructions as to massage -and the brushing of the hair and the delicate touch of rouge on the -cheeks but what did they know of German<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> or of geography? The world -for them consisted of <i>la belle</i> France. Was there another land? Ah, -well, they did not know of it. Still <i>la charmante petite</i> Comtesse was -all that was elegant and delightful, and she would beyond doubt have a -very great <i>dot</i> some day, and she would marry according to the French -custom into the high nobility. They found it tiresome to sit with the -child and teach her nothing, but behold she taught them, and she knew, -ah, ten times as much as they did! It was wonderful to listen to her. -There were other countries—Angleterre, Irlande, a country called -Germany, and lands many and wonderful across the deep, deep sea. It was -like listening to a fairy tale to hear <i>la petite</i> talk, and they were -getting a good salary. Ah, <i>oui, très bien, n'est-ce pas</i>! But behold, -the old Comte, he was angry, and <i>la petite</i> Comtesse must have told -him things. She looked true at heart, but she was not true at heart; -and behold, undoubtedly, she had enlightened M. le Comte concerning -them. They were sent away in disgrace. Their hearts were broken.</p> - -<p>"Do you want your revenge?" asked Louise.</p> - -<p>"Revenge, <i>certainement</i>, but could there be revenge?"</p> - -<p>"I tell you there can," said Louise. "I failed, but you can succeed. -You, Félicité Close, will <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>receive me in your <i>Cabinet de Beauté</i> -to-morrow, and behold, you will manicure my hands, and while so doing, -I—I myself will enlighten you and you shall avenge yourselves upon the -Comte."</p> - -<p>"<i>C'est bien, c'est bien</i>," murmured M'selle Blanc.</p> - -<p>"At two o'clock to-morrow I will arrive," said Louise. "Keep me not -waiting, I beseech of you, M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc. I will -teach you both how to avenge yourselves on M'sieur le Comte at the -Château St. Juste."</p> - -<p>Accordingly Louise returned home in the highest spirits, and wrote a -letter of rapture to Tilly at Clapham Common.</p> - -<p>"There is still of the hope," she wrote, "the hope that never dies. -Keep up your spirits, Matilda Raynes. Most unexpectedly has the hope -arisen. It fills the sky like the most beautiful sunset. Behold, it is -golden and close at hand. I shall have earned my sixty francs, and thou -wilt invite me to thy château of renown in the aristocratic quarter -called Clapham Common. I will visit you in Angleterre, and in Clapham -Common we shall clasp hands and meet heart to heart."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XX.</span> <span class="smaller">A CONSPIRACY.</span></h2> - -<p>Certainly Madame la Princesse de Fleury kept her school with a sort of -easy nonchalance, which was much appreciated by the girls. In especial, -these girls liked their half-holidays, when they could wander about -pretty much as they pleased. It is true that the boarders had to submit -to a certain amount of restraint, but as quite half the school were -day girls they had only to say that they were going home to visit -their dear relations, absolutely to satisfy that very innocent lady la -Princesse.</p> - -<p>Now, Louise lived at Arles. Her father's restaurant was not far from -the great school, and not far away again was the mansion where Louise -slept each night, and at times, half-holidays and such like, enjoyed -the pleasure of her friends' company. The day following that on which -she met M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc was a half-holiday, and as -her father supplied her freely with cash, she had whispered to one or -two companions of a fete, ah, <i>très ravissant</i>, where certain of her -dearest friends<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> could join her and eat <i>chocolats</i> and cakes to their -hearts' delight. But Louise did not dare to lose this most precious -half-holiday. She accordingly announced to her friends, Marcella and -Berthe, that they must put off their time of <i>ravissement</i> until the -next half-holiday, for behold! consider! she, Louise, had work of the -most particular to do. It was urgent, it was immediate—it had to come -at once, at once.</p> - -<p>The girls, of course, had to submit, and Louise, dressing herself as -gracefully as she could, appeared at the <i>Cabinet de Beauté</i> at the -hour named.</p> - -<p>She was received at once by the two ladies, was shown into a private -room, and while one manicured her finger-nails, and the other made of -her hair an arrangement the most perfect, she told her story. She said -what she required. She also declared that when the deed was done, ah, -<i>riche, très riche</i> would be the reward.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mon père</i>, he has much <i>d'argent</i>," said Louise. "He will pay well. -Now listen, M'selle Blanc and M'selle Close. You went as <i>gouvernantes</i> -to <i>la petite</i> Comtesse."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>oui, oui</i>," said the ladies, "and badly, horribly were we -treated. It was the doing of <i>l'enfant</i>; there is no doubt she is a -snake in the grass." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I would say she was a green lizard on the sunny wall," said Louise.</p> - -<p>"Ah, make me not to shudder, M'selle Grognan."</p> - -<p>"Now, I want to tell you about <i>la petite</i> Comtesse," continued Louise. -"She is the daughter, it is true, of the late Comte Henri St. Juste, -and her grandfather is the Comte St. Juste. She has, therefore, a right -to her title of <i>la petite</i> Comtesse, but behold, do you think she -keeps to that which we desire? Ah, <i>non, non</i>, far from that. Would you -suppose that <i>la petite</i> sold me this chapeau?" for Louise was wearing -the grass-green chapeau on purpose.</p> - -<p>"<i>Non, non</i>," exclaimed both ladies. "It is perfect, assuredly, but -<i>la petite</i>, she does not sell—to sell is to belong to us. We sell, -thy father, M'selle, <i>he</i> sells; but <i>la petite</i> she belongs to the -nobility. I hate them, <i>pour moi</i>, still they exist."</p> - -<p>"Now will you listen, M'selle Blanc," exclaimed Louise. "It is -true, what I tell you—it is true what I tell you both. M'selle has -a grand'père, and also <i>la belle</i> grand'mère employs her in her -<i>magasin</i>—kept it is <i>supposed</i> by Madame Marcelle, but really it -flourishes because of the rare taste of <i>la petite</i> Comtesse Margot. -She goes there daily for two hours a day, and behold! the chapeaux -they vanish; the robes they disappear; the dainty ribbons<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> and sashes -and gloves, they are not; the embroidered stockings they are not; the -shoes they are not; and all because of the taste of <i>la petite</i>. Think -you that the <i>établissement</i> would flourish without <i>la petite</i>? Well, -now, M. le Comte St. Juste, he knows nothing of this, but I want you -both to enlighten him. I have my reasons which I need not disclose; -will you both, <i>chères M'selles</i>, dress as the youngest do—ah, so -beautifully; make the variety of the <i>toilette</i>, the change that -pleases, that enchants? Wear a <i>chapeau noir</i>, M'selle Blanc, garnished -with roses <i>la reine</i>; and you, M'selle Close, wear <i>le petit chapeau -avec une plume noire et sans</i> roses. Oh, la, la, you will both look but -eighteen; then go straight to see M'sieur the Comte St. Juste, wearing -the touch of rouge—only the mere touch—and that tone of darkness -under the eyes which gives the expression so <i>nouvelle et si jeune</i>. -You will know what to do. Do not allude to the fact that you came as -<i>gouvernantes</i> alternate days to the little snake in the grass and the -little green lizard basking in the sun. Speak to him as strangers. Have -you got any friends whose names you could assume for the purpose?"</p> - -<p>The ladies knew many of the noblesse. They could, ah, <i>oui, -certainement</i>, choose the names.</p> - -<p>"Ah, well, go, my good friends, and fascinate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> the ancient Comte. He -will admire, he will adore. He is susceptible to the charms of beauty. -When you have won his confidence he will talk of your chapeau, M'selle -Blanc, and yours, M'selle Close; and then you must raise the hands -in rapture, and talk and talk and talk, and when you have roused his -enthusiasm, you must tell him that these things were chosen and sold to -you by one <i>très jeune</i> and <i>très belle</i>. Excite his interest; tell him -that there never was one with quite such taste as that <i>jeune petite</i>. -He will offer to go with you to see that young <i>marvel</i>, and behold! -you will take him. You will go in my car, and you will take him with -you into the town and into the <i>établissement</i>; and he will see <i>la -petite</i> Comtesse; he will know for himself what his granddaughter does. -The little green lizard will shine no longer in the sun; the little -green snake in the grass must from henceforth conceal herself; and I, -see! I will reward you both."</p> - -<p>"How much?" asked M'selle Blanc, who felt considerably afraid of M. le -Comte.</p> - -<p>"I will ask <i>mon père</i>; I will tell him all. What do you say to being -robed from head to foot by <i>la petite</i> Comtesse in the <i>établissement</i> -Marcelle? Think what a joy that will be! Such a perfect reward. Then -listen again—I know mothers and elder sisters of M'selles in my -school; they shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> come to you—oh! in numbers, to have their youth -renewed. Is not that enough?"</p> - -<p>M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc thought that the terms were sufficient -and arranged to go on the following morning to visit M. le Comte. -Meanwhile M'selle was to send them <i>les chapeaux ravissants</i>, -admirable, which they were to wear for the occasion. They must look -truly <i>jeunes</i> demoiselles.</p> - -<p>"Now then, I must go, but I will send the chapeaux, rest assured."</p> - -<p>Louise departed, and M'selle Blanc and M'selle Close consulted together -how they were to turn themselves into <i>jeunes</i> demoiselles. They -had, it is true, many patrons, and after consulting for a short time -together, they decided to adopt the names of two young ladies who had -come to the <i>Cabinet de Beauté</i> to have their hands manicured, and who -belonged to the <i>noblesse</i>.</p> - -<p>These young ladies, they were assured, were absent from home at -present. They might with safety take their names. They were the -daughters of the Marquis Odile. They had only lately taken a house at -Arles, where they lived with their father and mother, and were called -the Marquise Clotilde and the Marquise Rose.</p> - -<p>"Ah," exclaimed M'selle Blanc, "that name will suit my <i>chapeau noir</i>, -garnished with roses <i>la reine</i>." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Marquise Clotilde would look very sweet indeed in her <i>très petit -chapeau</i>.</p> - -<p>The chapeaux arrived, all in good time. The ladies arranged themselves -in fear and trembling; saw that they could appear with perfect ease -as <i>les jeunes</i> demoiselles; and went to bed that night with hearts -beating high with excitement. Ah, but the revenge was good, and the -adventure of the whole thing was exciting.</p> - -<p>They scarcely slept that night for thinking of their triumph. Early -the next morning, by the explicit directions of Louise, they attired -themselves in dresses of pure white with little sashes of blue. The -ravishing hats were perched on their heads, the slight touch of rouge -was delicately applied to each faded cheek, and then large veils were -put on to cover any possible defects.</p> - -<p>They were naturally slight in figure. Sharp at ten in the morning, at -the very hour when Louise told them it would be right for them to go, -they started on their mission to the Château St. Juste. Louise had sent -one of her father's cars for them. This was to wait to bring them back -again.</p> - -<p>Madame la Comtesse was always out at that hour. She was in reality -occupied in the back premises of the <i>établissement</i>; for Madame -Marcelle was little better than a figurehead. The old Comte was alone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> -He felt well and happy—the day was a mild one. He thought he would -enjoy the outside air. He would even go in the direction of the peach -garden.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, as he was approaching it, he raised his delicate old hand to -protect his sunken, dark eyes, and to watch in surprise an automobile -which was coming quickly down the avenue. He wanted to fly; but a check -string was applied, the chauffeur stopped <i>à l'instant</i>, and two pretty -girls approached—the Marquises Odile, connections of his. Ah, yes, -assuredly. They introduced themselves, they talked, they chatted.</p> - -<p>One Marquise, the Marquise Clotilde, insisted on his taking her arm; -the Marquise Rose walked at his other side. He forgot his peach garden -in the pleasure of talking to them. He called them <i>très douce et très -belle</i>. He had not the faintest suspicion that they were the withered -and ugly <i>gouvernantes</i> whom he had turned away with scorn a little -while ago.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but I must call on your esteemed father, Marquise Clotilde. He is -younger than I am, alas, but I will call, <i>certainement</i>; and for you, -<i>ma belle</i> Rose, let me see if I can give you something as ravishing -out of my garden as those roses which you wear in your chapeau." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Did you ever see a chapeau more <i>très belle</i>?" said the Marquise Rose.</p> - -<p>"It is of the most perfect," said the old Comte.</p> - -<p>"There is a wondrous lady who sells these things," said Marquise -Clotilde. "She sells them at an <i>établissement</i> kept by a certain -Madame Marcelle. We buy our things there. We have reconstructed -ourselves since we came to Arles. The young m'selle, <i>si jeune et si -belle</i>, does better for us than any of the Parisian <i>magasins</i>."</p> - -<p>"I can scarcely believe that," said le Comte.</p> - -<p>"Will you not come with us, M. le Comte, and see for yourself? Our -car waits your orders. The air is of the spring, reviving with its -mildness. Get in, M'sieur, get in. We will take you in a flash to the -<i>établissement</i>, and you will see <i>la belle petite</i> with the taste so -superb. Afterwards we will go and visit <i>mon père</i>."</p> - -<p>The old Comte felt in a mood for adventure. These demoiselles were very -charming, and he would like himself to see <i>la petite</i> who had the -taste so rare and simple.</p> - -<p>Accordingly he went as far as the house, leaning now on the arm of -the Marquise Rose, but holding the hand of the Marquise Clotilde. He -desired his valet to clothe him in his coat of fur and to place at -his feet a hot bottle. The automobile was closed by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> his desire. <i>Les -jeunes</i> demoiselles nearly fainted with the heat, but their task would -soon be over; their revenge would be complete and their reward would be -in their hands.</p> - -<p>They chattered all the way with the gay prattle of young birds. The -very old Comte thought how delightful was youth; he was glad, very -glad, to meet his own relations.</p> - -<p>At last they stopped at the <i>établissement</i>. The old Comte got out, -and the les Marquises accompanied him—all seemed going well, of the -best. The assistants bowed; the shopwalkers were ready to take these -distinguished strangers to whatever department they pleased.</p> - -<p>The Comte felt his cheeks flush with eagerness. This was really a -very gay adventure. He liked gay adventures; but at that moment there -was standing, just behind the Marquises and the Comte, <i>la petite</i> -Comtesse. She had gone herself to fetch a certain lace for a certain -customer. One glance served to pierce the disguise of the ugly -<i>gouvernantes</i>; one glance told to her horror-stricken eyes that <i>mon</i> -grandpère le Comte was in the <i>établissement</i>.</p> - -<p>Quickly, like a flash, she entered that part of the <i>magasin</i> which -was kept for underclothing, and with which she had nothing to do. From -there she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> got into the back premises, where she beheld <i>la belle</i> -grand'mère.</p> - -<p>"Oh, hide me, hide me," cried little Margot; "I will tell thee what has -occurred. Those <i>gouvernantes</i> so ignorant are in the <i>établissement</i> -with grandpère. They are powdered and rouged and wearing our -<i>chapeaux</i>—they are pretending the youth. Ah, but if he knows, if he -sees, it will break his heart."</p> - -<p>"Fret not thyself, <i>ma petite</i>," said <i>la belle</i> grand'mère. "Stay -quietly with me. Thou wilt be asked for of necessity, but I will say -that thou hast <i>mal à la tête</i>."</p> - -<p>"But <i>non</i>, grand'mère," cried little Margot, "behold, it is not <i>mal à -la tête</i>; it is sorrow at the heart."</p> - -<p>"Well, that suffices, <i>mon enfant</i>."</p> - -<p>The Comte, his cheeks growing pinker, his eyes brighter, accompanied by -those charming demoiselles, the young Marquises, asked everywhere for -<i>la petite</i>, <i>la petite</i>, the lady who had the taste so ravishing; but -although many were waiting for her, there was no sign of <i>la petite</i>.</p> - -<p>A message came at last to say that she was indisposed for that one -morning and could not appear.</p> - -<p>The ladies felt a keen and unaccountable sense of disappointment. -The old Comte knew that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> adventure was over, but he would occupy -himself by buying a brooch of the very finest sapphires for his little -Margot.</p> - -<p>The Ladies Odile stood behind him. It was just at that moment that two -very beautiful, dark young girls, accompanied by a stately gentleman -in middle life, entered the <i>établissement</i>. The girls were tall; -they were really very young; they had a glow of health, not rouge on -their cheeks. The eldest called herself Rose, the other was Clotilde. -Suddenly the father of these fair young girls made a graceful plunge -forward. It was rapid, and only a Frenchman could do it without -awkwardness.</p> - -<p>He seized the hand of M. le Comte.</p> - -<p>"Ah, behold, behold, <i>mon ami</i>," he said, "what joy is here. I came to -get some pretty trifles for my daughters, Rose and Clotilde; but I will -present them first to thee, <i>mon ami</i>. I have heard wonderful stories -of this <i>établissement</i>. We are anxious to see <i>the little wonder</i>, as -she is called. Ah, we see her not! Clotilde, make thy curtsey to M. le -Comte St. Juste; Rose, do thou likewise."</p> - -<p>"But—but——" said the astonished and amazed old Comte. "But—but——" -mimicked the father of Rose and Clotilde. "I am the Marquis Odile. Thy -cousin and thy friend, <i>mon ami</i>."</p> - -<p>"I am bewildered," said the poor old Comte.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> "All day Rose and Clotilde -have been with me. They brought me here; I thought them <i>charmantes</i>; -but I see them not. What does all this mean?"</p> - -<p>The trembling, terrified ladies who kept the <i>Cabinet de Beauté</i> -knew only too well what it all meant. The real Marquis and the real -Marquises had appeared in the flesh. As fast as their trembling legs -could carry them, they reached the door. They got into the automobile -and drove to the <i>Cabinet de Beauté</i>.</p> - -<p>"We have had a terrible escape," murmured M'selle Blanc. "Never, never -will I undertake such work again," said M'selle Close.</p> - -<p>Tremblingly they got off their hats and appeared in their usual dress.</p> - -<p>The Marquis brought the Comte back to his château in his own -automobile. The young Marquises Rose and Clotilde made him lie down, -and petted him and talked to him as though they were his daughters.</p> - -<p>When <i>la pauvre</i> grand'mère entered, an hour or so later, she found her -beloved one calm and easy in his mind. It was only after M. le Marquis -and his beautiful young daughters had gone that he told her of his very -great adventure.</p> - -<p>"It was the biggest of all my life," he said. "Two ladies, <i>très -belles</i> and <i>très jeunes</i>, appeared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> and introduced themselves as -<i>mes cousines</i>, <i>les</i> Marquises Rose <i>et</i> Clotilde. Ah, but they were -<i>charmantes</i>. Then behold, they spoke to me of a wonder, a <i>très -petite</i> wonder in the <i>établissement</i> of Madame Marcelle. They asked me -to go with them to see her, and I went."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but thou naughty one; thou adorable naughty one," said la Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"But behold, listen," continued the old man. "I enjoyed myself; they -were so gay, so young, so brilliant in the cheeks, so dainty in the -chapeaux. Then I arrived. They took me in their own car; but I could -not see that <i>petite</i> wonder, who seems to rule the <i>établissement</i>; -and suddenly, behold, the real Marquis Odile appeared with his -beautiful daughters, Rose and Clotilde. Ah, but it was an adventure; -it was wonderful. Thinkest thou, Madame beloved, that the others -were—were spirits? I looked to right, I looked to left, and nowhere -could I see them after the Marquis appeared. Thinkest thou they were -spirits, Madame la Comtesse?"</p> - -<p>"They were wicked women," said Madame. "They thought to take thee in, -but they failed."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but indeed they were not wicked," said M. le Comte. "They looked -young and elegant. How gently did the one who called herself Clotilde -support my feeble steps; and how admirable were the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> manners of the one -called Rose. I will amuse myself well this afternoon in telling the -story of this queer adventure to <i>la petite</i> Comtesse."</p> - -<p>"Please thyself, <i>mon</i> Alphonse; but now lie quietly and rest, while I -prepare the bouillon which will nourish thee after those adventures, -which only ought to happen to the young."</p> - -<p>The entire story was repeated to Margot when she appeared on the scene; -but the old man seemed now dull and drowsy and stupid. Perhaps he was -too old for adventures—he could not say. As the evening advanced, he -talked in a puzzled way of two Marquises called Rose, and two Marquises -called Clotilde, and of a "little wonder" in a certain <i>établissement</i>. -He was decidedly feverish, and Margot held his hand and soothed him as -only <i>she</i> knew how.</p> - -<p>"Oh the wicked, wicked women," sobbed <i>la belle</i> grand'mère, after the -doctor had come and gone. "The wicked, wicked women, to injure <i>mon</i> -Alphonse."</p> - -<p>When Margot had a minute of time to attend to <i>la belle</i> grand'mère, -she told her that the false Marquises were only her hideous old -<i>gouvernantes</i> dressed up to look young, and that she herself meant to -give them a piece of her mind.</p> - -<p>"I mean to spend the entire night with grandpère," <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>she said. "Weep -not, <i>ma belle</i> grand'mère. He got a shock, and only <i>I</i> can keep him -from being puzzled by the two names—the two names twice over. I will -go to him, <i>ma belle</i> grand'mère."</p> - -<p>"Yes, go, my blessed child," said the little Madame; and she felt at -that moment that even the <i>dot</i> for Margot, and her <i>établissement</i>, -were as nothing compared to <i>mon</i> Alphonse—<i>mon</i> Alphonse the -adorable, the love of her life.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XXI.</span> <span class="smaller">THE PALACE OF TRUTH.</span></h2> - -<p>In the morning, the old Comte St. Juste was less feverish, but -nevertheless not himself. He had, as he complained, a confused -feeling. The world was full of Roses—oh, the most <i>charmantes</i>—and -of Clotildes equally divine. They were coming up the avenue in -automobiles, they were entering the room, they were sitting with him, -they were pouring into his ear the fact that his mission was not -accomplished. He had gone to the <i>établissement</i>, but he had not seen -<i>the little wonder</i>. He could not rest until he saw her. In vain Margot -tried to soothe him. She longed beyond words to quiet his mind by -telling him the simple truth—that she was <i>la petite</i>, <i>she</i> was the -little wonder of the <i>établissement</i> Marcelle. But when she hinted at -such a proceeding to <i>la belle</i> grand'mère, that poor woman gave a cry -of bitter horror.</p> - -<p>"Thou wilt kill <i>mon</i> Alphonse; thou <i>wilt</i> not be so cruel, thou -<i>canst</i> not be so cruel."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but I ought, I ought," sobbed Margot. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> - -<p>Madame la grand'mère consulted with the doctor.</p> - -<p>"M. <i>le docteur</i> said that if anything was told at the present moment -to excite the very old man, it would be his death; if Margot would not -promise silence, she must keep out of the room."</p> - -<p>"It will soothe him, <i>ma belle</i> grand'mère," cried little Margot.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless la Comtesse kept the child from the sick man's room. -One hour he grew better, another hour weaker, his strength kept -fluctuating; then he began to watch the door.</p> - -<p>"It will soon be time for <i>la petite</i> Comtesse to return; I want <i>la -petite</i>," he said to his wife.</p> - -<p>The distracted woman kept on telling him that she would soon appear; -the Comte kept on listening; he fixed his sunken eyes on the clock.</p> - -<p>"How soon will the time fly?" he cried impatiently; "how soon will <i>la -petite</i> be in these arms?" Poor little Margot was upstairs, struggling -with the great despair that had visited her. The dear old man—the -dearest old man in all the world except The Desmond—why was she not -with him?—how wicked of people to tell lies; she would never tell -another. She resolved as soon as she returned to Desmondstown to tell -The Desmond also the whole truth.</p> - -<p>Toward evening the Comte's temperature went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> down; it went down to -normal—below normal—far below. Madame was thankful, thinking the -worst was over.</p> - -<p>The old man dropped into a quiet sleep; he looked very aged in that -sleep. The doctor came in. Madame exclaimed excitedly:</p> - -<p>"Ah, Monsieur <i>le docteur</i>, I have news of the best. His temperature -is——"</p> - -<p>Then she suddenly stopped speaking—the doctor's face was very grave. -He prepared a strong stimulant and forced the old man to swallow it in -teaspoonfuls. Then he went into another room with Madame la Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter?" he said. "Has the child betrayed you?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Non, non</i>," replied Madame. "I have put her upstairs, but he thinks -she is still at school at Arles—learning, ever learning; dancing, ever -dancing; making herself <i>très jolie</i>—ah, that is what he thinks, <i>mon</i> -adored one."</p> - -<p>"Listen, Madame," said the doctor. "Your husband is ill, very ill -indeed. Keep the little one away if you can, but if not, let her go to -him. It may be possible that the truth and the truth alone may save him -even now. I will come back in two hours. Try to save him from shock, if -possible;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> but behold! if it is necessary, fetch <i>la petite</i> Comtesse."</p> - -<p>The doctor departed and Madame went back to her husband's bedside. He -was talking in a rambling, feeble way, and kept looking first at the -clock and then at the door.</p> - -<p>"<i>La petite</i>, she does not arrive," he said suddenly. As suddenly a -thought flashed through the mind of la Comtesse.</p> - -<p>"She will not be here till late to-night, <i>mon</i> Alphonse," was her -reply. "She has been asked to partake of <i>tisane</i> with her cousins, the -Marquises Clotilde <i>et</i> Rose. She will have much to tell thee when she -does enter thy room."</p> - -<p>"Ah," said the poor old Comte feebly, "is she also one of those who -overlook the old, the very aged, when they can hardly speak, hardly -think? Time flies for us both—ah, <i>ma petite</i> Comtesse, <i>mon ange</i>, I -may not be here if thou dost delay. I want her to tell me——"</p> - -<p>"What, my unhappy one?" asked his wife.</p> - -<p>"All about that wonderful <i>petite</i> who performs such extraordinary -feats at the <i>établissement</i> which once was thine, my Ninon."</p> - -<p>All of a sudden the heart of Ninon rose in a great wave. It seemed to -struggle for utterance. She could scarcely contain herself. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Harken, <i>mon</i> Alphonse," she said. "I will go myself and see whether -the automobile has yet returned."</p> - -<p>"Ah, do, my Ninon," replied the Comte. "Thou, at least, hast always -been faithful and true—faithful, loving and true. I trust thee to the -uttermost."</p> - -<p>The poor woman staggered out of the room. She was met by little Margot, -who was standing in the passage, and whose face was the colour of a -white sheet. Her deep, dark eyes were full of untold misery.</p> - -<p>"<i>Belle</i> grand'mère," she began—but grand'mère had no words to express -her feelings. She pointed to the door where the sick man lay.</p> - -<p>"Thou mayst save him. Thou hast my permission," she said in the lowest -whisper; and little Margot with her gentle step entered the darkened -room.</p> - -<p>She knew at once that it was a trifle too hot. She opened wide one of -the French windows; she let in the soft air, which, winter-time as it -was in most places, felt like summer here. The old man breathed more -easily. He turned on his pillow. He opened his eyes, so very sunken -in his head, but they lit up with a joy beyond expression when he saw -little Margot.</p> - -<p>"Ah, I am weak, <i>mon enfant</i>," he said. "But thou hast come, <i>ma -petite</i>. Put thy little hand on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> mine. There is life in thy little -hand; lay it on mine. Ah, <i>ma petite</i>, how greatly do I love thee."</p> - -<p>"And I thee, <i>mon</i> grandpère," cried Margot.</p> - -<p>"Tell me," said the Comte, after a few minutes' silence, during which -Margot had fed him with some of the doctor's restorative—"tell me -what thou didst do at the <i>établissement</i> to-day. Didst thou buy a -chapeau?—didst thou watch the <i>little wonder</i> as she sold chapeaux and -robes for Madame Marcelle?"</p> - -<p>"I was not there at all to-day, grandpère."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>ma petite</i>, but wast thou there yesterday?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais oui</i>," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"And didst thou perchance see the <i>little wonder</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I saw her; she is not a wonder."</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>ma petite</i>, be thou not of the jealous ones!" said the old man. -"That would not be worthy of thee. Thou hast thy gifts; she has hers. -Her chapeaux, they are perfect. Her taste, it is what I never saw -before. Tell me about her, <i>chérie</i>."</p> - -<p>"I will," said Margot, "if thou, <i>mon</i> grandpère, will let me put both -of my hands round one of thine, and if thou wilt promise not to—not to -turn me away afterwards."</p> - -<p>"Turn thee away, best beloved, it couldn't be."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but it might be," said little Margot.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> "There is a burden on thy -mind; there is a—I call it not a <i>fear</i>, but it approaches in the -direction of a fear. <i>La petite</i> who sells <i>les</i> chapeaux, <i>les</i> robes -and all the other articles of refinement in the <i>établissement</i>, is -<i>thine own Margot</i>. Dost thou hear me? I will not keep it back from -thee any longer. <i>La pauvre belle</i> grand'mère thought that it was best -for thee not to know, but there are cruel people in the world who tried -to tell thee, but failed, so now <i>I</i> tell thee. The ladies who came -here yesterday were of the cruel sort; the girl in the grass-green hat -was of the cruel sort; but thy Margot—thy Margot—<i>mon</i> grandpère, art -thou angry?"</p> - -<p>"With thee? <i>Mais non—non!</i>" His face was whiter than ever; he could -scarcely swallow. After a little he seemed to gather strength.</p> - -<p>"Call thy <i>belle</i> grand'mère back to me, Margot," he said.</p> - -<p>Margot fetched the poor woman. She came in, trembling from head to foot.</p> - -<p>"I have told him; he had to know," whispered Margot.</p> - -<p>The old man's eyes were bright now with some of the brightness of yore; -his voice was firmer, too.</p> - -<p>"Listen, Ninon," he said, "behold! Keep thy hand in mine, Margot, -beloved. Ninon, I thought thou wert truthful, and I thought this -child truthful,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> but she, <i>la petite</i>, has told me all the truth -at last. I cannot appear before the Great Almighty with the sin of -pride on my soul. Behold, now, we are all alike in Heaven; only make -me one promise, Ninon. Never again shall this little one enter the -<i>établissement</i> of Madame Marcelle, never except to buy."</p> - -<p>"She shall not, <i>mon</i> Alphonse," said Ninon, falling at his side and -burying her face in the counterpane and beginning to weep.</p> - -<p>"Thy tears distress me," said the old man. "Behold <i>la petite</i>, she -does not weep."</p> - -<p>"I come of those who regard tears as not wise," said Margot; "but, -behold! I promise thee, grandpère, I promise with all—all my heart. I -will never again sell in the <i>établissement</i> Marcelle."</p> - -<p>"Then see! how happy I am," said M. le Comte. "I am in the palace of -truth. For a long time I lived in the palace of lies; gorgeous in -colour was that palace and very beautiful to the senses, nevertheless -it was the palace of lies. Now I breathe the healthy air of truth. Thou -hast spoken, <i>mon enfant</i>; thou hast promised, <i>ma</i> Ninon; there is no -pride left. For me, I also did wrong. The spirit of pride led me wrong."</p> - -<p>"Then, grand'mère, we are all happy together,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> said Margot; "but -see!—do not talk, he has fallen asleep."</p> - -<p>The old Comte St. Juste had fallen asleep, and there was a lovely -smile, something like that of an angel, on his face. The child and the -woman watched him. The doctor came in presently and shook his head. He -deliberately took a seat in the room and partly closed the window which -Margot had opened.</p> - -<p>"The restorative, <i>M. le docteur</i>," cried poor Madame.</p> - -<p>"He could not swallow now," said the doctor, "but I will stay; yes, I -will stay to the end."</p> - -<p>The end came in the early hours of the morning. The old Comte slipped -silently, softly and painlessly out of this life into a better one; -and poor <i>belle</i> grand'mère cried as though her heart would break, -but Margot did not cry. She made wreaths of violets, out of their own -garden, to surround him. She was never idle for a moment. She put in -his hands the Rose of France.</p> - -<p>He had lost the look of age; he had slipped back twenty, even thirty -years; but for his white hair, he did not look so very old.</p> - -<p>"It is because the angels have kissed him," said little Margot.</p> - -<p>Madame wept nearly the whole of the day; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> Margot kept quiet, -thoughtful, busy. She had much to do for <i>la belle</i> grand'mère.</p> - -<p>Toward evening the tired woman lay down and slept; and little Margot -sat in the room with her dead grandfather, where the great wax candles -were lighted—seven at the head of the bed, and seven at the feet. The -room was full of the scent of violets.</p> - -<p>"If that is death, I should like to go, too, some day," thought little -Margot.</p> - -<p>All in a moment, she observed the sweet smile on the lips of the dead -man, and there came a lump in her throat. Had she not remembered that -she was a Desmond she might have cried; but being a Desmond she kept -back her tears.</p> - -<p>The servants sat in the passage outside. They were surprised that -Margot should like to be alone with the dead; but Margot was without -fear because she loved so dearly.</p> - -<p>"I am glad I told him," she said once or twice to herself; and then she -thought of The Desmond and resolved that she would tell him, too, for -lies were not of the Kingdom of God, and she wanted to belong to that -kingdom and to that alone. What did a <i>dot</i> matter?—what did riches -matter? "<i>Pauvre belle</i> grand'mère," thought the little girl. "I will -always uphold her and strengthen her and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> help her in my little, poor -way; but she shall not spend her money on me."</p> - -<p>After the funeral the will was read.</p> - -<p>Fergus Desmond and Uncle Jacko came over for the service and the after -ceremony. Margot was quietly told of the extent of the funds which -would be at her disposal when she came of age, or before that if she -married. They were her French grandfather's present to his beloved -grandchild.</p> - -<p>Poor <i>la belle</i> grand'mère looked with anguish at Margot. Margot took -her hand.</p> - -<p>"I must speak the truth, and now," she said. "<i>Mon</i> grandpère was rich -only because of this most dear lady; and I will not take the money, no, -not a penny of it. She earned it for him, <i>for him</i>!"</p> - -<p>"You cannot refuse," said the notary. "See, there was a deed of gift -made to you. The dead would walk if you did refuse;" but Margot said -gently and firmly that she did not believe in that sort of thing, for -<i>chère</i> grandpère was in the heavenly garden with God, and that anyhow -<i>she</i> now meant to make a deed of gift.</p> - -<p>All those present turned and stared at her.</p> - -<p>"Behold!" she cried. "The <i>dot</i> was arranged for me, who care not -for money at all. I give back every farthing of it to <i>la belle</i> -grand'mère; and I will come and see her once at least every year; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> -I love her, for she has a true, brave heart; but now I must go back to -The Desmond, for I hear his voice calling me across the waters."</p> - -<p>All in vain did <i>la belle</i> grand'mère implore of little Margot not to -make the deed of gift for her; to forget her—not to think of her at -all; but Margot could never forget, and would never take the money.</p> - -<p>In the end her wishes were carried out, and <i>la belle</i> grand'mère -returned to the <i>établissement</i> at Arles. The Château St. Juste was -shut up for the present, but once every year it was to be opened and -filled with servants, and little Margot was to spend a month there -with <i>la belle</i> grand'mère. For although she had given up the <i>dot</i>, -she could not by any manner of means dispose of the Château St. Juste, -which was her direct property, coming to her through her own father and -grandfather.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XXII.</span> <span class="smaller">IT IS JOYFUL TO BEHOLD THEE, MY PUSHKEEN.</span></h2> - -<p>On their way back to Desmondstown, Margot told Uncle Fergus that she -meant to tell The Desmond everything.</p> - -<p>"He will be shocked," returned Fergus Desmond.</p> - -<p>"No," replied Margot, "the truth told as I shall tell it can never -shock anyone. I will not allow him to think me what I am not. Uncle -Fergus, I thought you were too great to permit it."</p> - -<p>"I have not your strength of character, my child," said The Desmond of -the future.</p> - -<p>As little Margot had come back to Desmondstown now to live, as it was -to be her home in the future, with the exception of the one month which -she would spend with <i>la belle</i> grand'mère, and as <i>mon</i> grandpère was -dead, her return was quiet and without that sense of rejoicing which -stimulated it on her last return. There were no bonfires; there were -no excited, screaming peasants; but Phinias Maloney was there with his -little old cart, and the baby had grown so big that his mother thought -that she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> might bring him out just for the bit colleen to kiss him. -They drove quietly up to the rickety old house.</p> - -<p>The girls were standing in the hall, all three of them dressed as young -and as little like their age as ever. They all came forward to greet -her, but Auntie Norah cried out:</p> - -<p>"Whyever aren't ye in black, pushkeen?"</p> - -<p>"Why should I be in black?" replied Margot.</p> - -<p>"Because, for sure, isn't your French grandfather killed entirely?"</p> - -<p>"My French grandfather is in heaven, and very—very happy," said -Margot. "He is with God, the dear God who loves us all, and I am -not going to wear black for him, for if he could speak to me now he -wouldn't like it. I loved him most dearly; I shall always love his -memory, but now I want The Desmond and Madam."</p> - -<p>"Then whip into the room," said Bridget. "Why, to say the least of it, -you know your way about, pushkeen."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Margot. She could not help giving a happy little laugh; she -could not help feeling a great load rolling off her heart. This was -her real home, her beloved home, her home of all homes. There were no -people like the Irish; there was no one in the world like The Desmond. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p> - -<p>She was wearing a little dress of thick, white serge, coat and skirt -to match, and a piece of white fox fur round her neck; her little cap -was also of white and was pushed back off her dark hair. Her cheeks -were blooming with roses. The Desmond had felt a momentary fear at the -thought of meeting his little granddaughter, but when he saw her with -her rosy cheeks and brilliant dark eyes and white apparel, he gave a -sigh of rapture.</p> - -<p>"Eh, eh, but it is joyful to behold ye, my pushkeen," he cried, and -then they were clasped in each other's arms.</p> - -<p>Madam went out, as was her custom, to prepare supper for the little -pushkeen; and this was Margot's opportunity to tell her proud old -grandfather what had occurred.</p> - -<p>She told him all from beginning to end; her great dark eyes were fixed -on his face; his eyes, nearly as dark, regarded her gravely. She did -not leave out a single point. She explained the entire secret, the -miserable little secret which had turned her into a shopgirl, all for -such a wretched thing as a <i>dot</i>.</p> - -<p>Certainly The Desmond was very grave at first—the colour mounted to -his cheeks and he clenched one of his great strong hands; but when -Margot went on to describe <i>mon</i> grandpère's death, and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> the -arrangement which had been finally decided on after the funeral, by -which Margot gave up her <i>dot</i>, returning it absolutely to <i>la belle</i> -grand'mère and only keeping the old Château for herself—which she -could not give away, for she inherited it from her father and her -grandfather—then the old man changed his attitude.</p> - -<p>He burst into a loud guffaw. He rose to his immense height and folded -the pushkeen in his arms, and cried:</p> - -<p>"Hip, hip, hurrah! Hip, hip, hurrah! Old Ireland forever! The Desmonds -forever! Their pluck, their spirit to the world's end!"</p> - -<p>Madam, hearing a loud noise, came hastily in, and The Desmond told her -to calm herself and to look upon the pushkeen as a gem of the purest -water.</p> - -<p>"She has been telling me things that set me up," was his remark; "they -set me up fine, but they are to go no further. Quit any curious ways, -my woman; get my pushkeen her supper. Old Ireland forever! Hip, hip, -hurrah! Hip, hip, hurrah!"</p> - -<p>So little Margot sat on her grandfather's knee and ate the excellent -food provided for her by dear, sweet, dainty little Madam, and then, -being really very tired, she dropped asleep, with her head <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>leaning on -The Desmond's breast, and her dark hair pressed against his white beard.</p> - -<p>"Eh, but she's the wonder," said The Desmond; "and I won't have her -woke, that I won't, if she lies here all night long. She's mine forever -and ever now. Thank the Lord God Almighty and His blessed Son, Jesus -Christ, and the Holy Spirit and the angels and the archangels and all -the hosts of heaven, for their mercies! I've got her and she's mine! -My pushkeen, my mavourneen, my blessed brave little lamb. I tell you, -Mary, she's a heroine. She's better than the best—what more can an old -man say?"</p> - -<p>Margot did awake in time to go up to her own snug little bedroom, to -slip into her own cosy bed, and to sleep the sound sleep of the weary. -But before he went to bed himself that night, The Desmond had a talk -with Fergus.</p> - -<p>"We've got her back, Fergus boy," he said. "She's ours now forever."</p> - -<p>"Yes, that's true enough, forever."</p> - -<p>"She has let out something to me," said The Desmond, "which I can't -repeat and won't for the life of me."</p> - -<p>"Don't then, father," said Fergus.</p> - -<p>"But she's a heroine," said The Desmond. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I always reckoned she was born that way," said Fergus.</p> - -<p>"I'm not going to tell you her bit of a secret, my man."</p> - -<p>"I say, father, I'm not wanting to hear it."</p> - -<p>"But you and me, Fergus, we must provide for her. We must settle a bit -of a dower on her."</p> - -<p>"I'm thinking that way myself," said Fergus.</p> - -<p>"We'll talk it over to-morrow," said The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"We will, father," said Fergus. "We'll do something fine for the -pushkeen; she's worth it."</p> - -<p>"Worth it!" cried The Desmond. "There never was her like before in the -world. Good-night, Fergus. You are my heir, remember, and you'll be -The Desmond after me. But listen here and now—old men die off quick -sometimes, and if anything happens to me she's your charge."</p> - -<p>"Of course, father; can you doubt it?"</p> - -<p>"That's all right. I'm going to bed," said The Desmond. He slowly left -the room. There was a great rejoicing in his heart; he saw real, true -goodness when it was brought before him. The little pushkeen should not -suffer for her confidence in him. He had loved her before; now his love -filled his heart to the very brim.</p> - -<p>Fergus sat for some time by the turf fire in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> father's sitting-room -and laughed quietly and softly to himself at the way the little -pushkeen had managed The Desmond, who imagined <i>he</i> was the only -one of all the family of Desmonds who knew the true story of the -<i>établissement</i> at Arles.</p> - -<p>"I never saw the old fellow so took up with anything," thought Fergus -to himself. "The girls and Bruce and Malachi must never know, and -of course I'll <i>pretend</i> never to know. It's all right—better than -right—brave little pushkeen."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XXIII.</span> <span class="smaller">THE GLORIOUS SOFTNESS OF IRELAND.</span></h2> - -<p>Little Margot soon settled down into the life she loved best. Her -object was to please her dear granddad. She was fond of her uncles and -her old-young aunts and of dear, stately little Madam, but there was no -one in all the world like The Desmond himself.</p> - -<p>In her sweet presence he became a sort of child again. He went out, -holding her little brown hand, and although it was still too early in -the year to gather many flowers, such as grew in profusion in the south -of France, they did find wonderful mosses, and the first, sweet, daring -crocuses, and snowdrops and even primroses.</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i349.jpg" id="i349.jpg"></a><img src="images/i349.jpg" alt="They did find wonderful mosses" /></div> - -<p class="bold">They did find wonderful mosses and snow drops and even <br />primroses.—<a href="#Page_349"><i>Page 349.</i></a></p> - -<p>Margot used to pick them and bring them into granddad's room and -arrange them with her exquisite taste for his comfort and pleasure. -Hitherto he had called flowers more or less rubbish, but now this -human flower had taught him to love all the flowers and green things -of the fields. The mosses, fructifying in their full perfection, -delighted the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> old man as much as the child. He polished up an ancient -microscope, and they examined these treasures of nature together side -by side. They did not want to talk about anything else while the -beautiful mosses were in their bloom. The Desmond even went to the -expense of getting high glass globes to cover the mosses, which caused -them to grow up tall and strong, and the two—the old and the young -child—felt the perfection of joy as they watched them.</p> - -<p>"Oh, granddad, you are <i>so</i> funny," said little Margot.</p> - -<p>Granddad replied by "Hip, hip, hurrah! <i>Erin go bragh</i>;<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> the pushkeen -forever."</p> - -<p>Her old-young aunts were much entertained by Margot's devotion to the -old man. They themselves considered it childish. They began to consider -The Desmond in his dotage, whereas, in reality, he had never been so -alive and so amusing. A little child was leading him, and surely there -could be no safer guide to the Kingdom of Heaven.</p> - -<p>But happy days, even the happiest, come to an end. The season of the -fructification of the moss was over, and Margot now was fully engaged -in filling granddad's room with cowslips and bluebells, and with -beautiful, large primroses in quantities. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span></p> - -<p>One morning she felt unusually wakeful and unusually happy. She had -received quite a cheerful letter from <i>la belle</i> grand'mère the night -before. The <i>établissement</i> was flourishing, and Madame could never -forget her little Margot. The child was tired of staying in bed. The -time was now the middle of March, but in this soft air of the county of -Kerry harsh winds were little known, and as to rain, what did a drop of -rain matter?—nobody thought of rain in the county of Kerry. "A fine, -soft morning," they said one to the other.</p> - -<p>"A beautiful, soft morning entirely," they exclaimed, when the rain -poured in sheets and torrents.</p> - -<p>Margot watched it from her window and felt a sudden frantic desire to -go out into this glorious softness. It would not do for granddad, dear -grand-dad, but he should have his primroses and cowslips all the same.</p> - -<p>She put on a little old shabby frock and, stepping softly, let herself -out into the streaming, pouring rain. She had a tiny mackintosh, -which she slipped over her shabby frock. She wanted the rain and the -beautiful softness to wet her delicate, jet-black hair, and cause it to -curl up tighter than ever. She wore old goloshes a little too big for -her, on her feet. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span></p> - -<p>She knew a certain spot, beyond the grounds of the old estate, where -primroses and cowslips were growing. She had seen them the day before -with her clear black eyes, but the place was too far off for granddad -to walk to. She made for it now, however, her little basket on her arm. -After a time, she found herself under the dripping trees.</p> - -<p>How glorious was the wet softness of Ireland! Was there ever such a -place as Erin? Surely, surely, never, never! And then she stooped down -and began carefully to pick her primroses and cowslips, laying them -dripping wet as they were, with delicate care into her little basket.</p> - -<p>In the midst of her task she was arrested by the sound of voices. Who -in the world could be out and near this spot of all spots, early in the -morning? She gave a little sigh and stood upright, leaning against a -fir tree. Then she saw a sight which caused her small heart to beat.</p> - -<p>Her young-old Aunt Norah was walking by, leaning confidentially on the -arm of Mr. Flannigan. They were evidently too much absorbed with each -other to take the least notice of the child. Margot earnestly hoped -they would not stop—she had no desire to act as an eavesdropper, and -yet she could not get away without being seen.</p> - -<p>"I'm a bit tired, me honey," said old-young Aunt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> Norah. "Let me lean -on your shoulder, avick. There, that's better. Shall we sit a while? -I'm not one for minding the damp, being brought up in it, so to speak."</p> - -<p>"Eh, but listen, mavourneen," said the almost husky voice of Flannigan, -"ye might catch the bitter cowld, me pretty pet, and then where in the -wide world would your Samuel be?"</p> - -<p>"Why, you'd be where you always were," replied young-old Aunt Norah.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but no! I'd be in the cowld grave," said Samuel Flannigan. "Do ye -think I could live another minute without ye, Norah, me bit thing?"</p> - -<p>This was too much for little Margot. She would <i>not</i> be an -eavesdropper. She must explain. She came out from under the shelter of -the fir tree, and flinging the cowslips and the primroses into the lap -of old-young Aunt Norah, she exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"I'm here and I know. It's lovely to listen, but I mustn't listen. I'll -leave you to yourselves. I didn't think you two would take up silly at -your age, but I forgot you were young-old, and that sort does anything."</p> - -<p>The two stared at her with their mouths open, and manifest -consternation in their faces.</p> - -<p>"Is it tellin', ye are going to be?" said young-old Aunt Norah. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span></p> - -<p>"To be sure not—I've nothing to tell. If I'd stayed a bit longer I -might have heard more. Phinias did say to me once that you and himself -there, were familiar-like; but I didn't know what it meant, and I -don't know what it means now, only that he calls you 'me honey,' and -you stick to him in the dripping, pouring rain. Well, if you like it I -don't care; I'm going home."</p> - -<p>"No; you are not," said old-young Aunt Norah. "You've heard too much, -and you shall hear the rest. We are going to be married, me and this -gentleman."</p> - -<p>"Married?" cried little Margot. "Whatever is that?"</p> - -<p>"My child, it is the gift of heaven," said Samuel Flannigan.</p> - -<p>Margot raised her black eyes to the dripping skies.</p> - -<p>"It seems to come down in a good pour," she said. "Still, I don't -understand."</p> - -<p>"You know about Madam and your granddad," cried young-old Aunt Norah.</p> - -<p>"To be sure; am I wanting in sense entirely?"</p> - -<p>"Well, they're married, the same as we'll be very soon, very soon."</p> - -<p>"Oh, deary me!" cried little Margot. "That does sound lovely. Only you -know, Mr. Samuel <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span>Flannigan, you haven't got the beautiful face of my -granddad, so perhaps your little children won't be <i>quite</i> as lovely. -I wonder how many you'll have. My old nurse at Uncle Jacko's said that -when I cracked my fingers, every crack meant a wee babe. Shall I crack -them now for you two?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, child, you are too awful," cried Aunt Norah, who found herself -blushing in the most uncomfortable way.</p> - -<p>But Margot took no notice of the blush, nor did she observe that the -Rev. Samuel Flannigan had moved a trifle out of hearing. Margot gravely -cracked her fingers. After a time she looked solemnly at young-old Aunt -Norah and said:</p> - -<p>"You'll have ten. They'll come out of the hearts of cabbages, and I'll -order them for you one at a time, if you like; I'll go straight home -now and begin to make the baby clothes."</p> - -<p>"Margot, you are the most awful pushkeen in the wide world," said Aunt -Norah. "You have made himself feel so ashamed that he can't look me in -the face."</p> - -<p>"All because of the dear little babies," said Margot. "I am more than -surprised."</p> - -<p>"Listen," exclaimed Norah, "no young girl ever talks on those subjects -before marriage." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Don't she? But why? I thought it was <i>so</i> interesting."</p> - -<p>"It isn't, pushkeen; it isn't done."</p> - -<p>"Have you told granddad yet that you are going to marry Mr. Flannigan?" -inquired Margot.</p> - -<p>"No; we don't want him to know yet. It would spoil the fun; and dear -Samuel is so sensitive."</p> - -<p>"I suppose so; I never thought it before, but if he's frightened of a -wee thing like a babe, he must be. But, young-old Aunt Norah, you ought -to tell granddad."</p> - -<p>"I will, in good time, child; only it must be in my own way and in my -own time. Samuel is the most blessed and holy man in the whole world."</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't think he's quite that; for if he were he wouldn't -play games like <i>puss-in-the-corner</i> and <i>round the mulberry tree</i> -and <i>blind-man's buff</i>; and then, Aunt Norah, you <i>can't</i> call him -handsome. His nose, it cocks right up, and there's very little of it; -and his mouth is <i>so</i> wide; and he has teeny eyes; and his head is -getting bald. Do you want to marry a man with a bald head, Aunt Norah? -I'll tell you how I found it out. I saw you and him and Aunt Bridget -talking and laughing and giggling the other day, and I thought it -wasn't to say—well! what old-youngs did." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You little prude," said Aunt Norah in an angry voice.</p> - -<p>"Well, but it <i>wasn't</i>, old-young Aunt Norah."</p> - -<p>"You are not to call me 'old-young'; I won't have it."</p> - -<p>"Well, old, then."</p> - -<p>"I'm not old."</p> - -<p>"Whatever am I to call you, for you are not young?"</p> - -<p>"Bless the child; she'll break me to bits," said Aunt Norah. "Pushkeen, -you don't know what you are talkin' of."</p> - -<p>"I do; I know quite well. You sent me to your bedroom the other day -and I saw a very long plait of hair that wasn't yours lying on the -dressing table. If you were young the hair would sprout like bulbs out -of your head, and on the day that I watched you and Aunt Bride and Mr. -Flannigan playing in the garden, I thought I'd find out about him, so -I got Joe, the garden boy, to fetch me a ladder, and he did so, and I -climbed up and sat in the bough of a tree, and Samuel's hair was all -bald on the top, so you are neither of you young, and you oughtn't to -pretend; it is wrong."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you are a dreadful, dreadful pushkeen," said Aunt Norah. "But I'll -forgive you all your wild ways and tell you my little beautiful secrets -if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> you promise not to say a word of this—this meeting, to my father, -nor my sisters, nor my brothers." Margot was rather beguiled by the -thought of being Aunt Norah's confidante.</p> - -<p>"I'll keep your secret as safe—as safe can be for <i>one week</i>," she -said. "You can tell himself there'll be <i>only</i> ten, and that I my -very self will pick them out of the choicest cabbages. Now, good-bye. -I'd love to see you hugging each other, and I'm sorry they won't be -pretty, but, you see, you aren't, and he isn't, and the cabbages are -<i>very particular</i> whom they send the wee babies to. Well, I must be -off." Little Margot rushed back to the house. She felt rather cold and -chill. Aunt Norah's news by no means pleased her. She had never liked -Mr. Flannigan, and she disliked him more than ever now. Still, she had -promised to keep Aunt Norah's secret for a week. It was an awful burden -on her little mind; still, she must keep her word.</p> - -<p>The week went by, and after the first day, Margot began to enjoy -herself. It was so very interesting to watch Mr. Flannigan blush. She -had only to stare first at him, then at Aunt Norah, and behold, his -entire face was crimson. She made little experiments with his blushes, -and they succeeded to such an extent that the poor man was in agony.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> -At last Aunt Norah had to take her away and speak to her.</p> - -<p>"Do you know, pushkeen," she said, "that you are making my Samuel very -miserable?"</p> - -<p>"I?" said Margot. "I don't know what you mean."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but you are. You keep looking at him."</p> - -<p>"I can't help it; a cat may look at a king, Auntie Norah."</p> - -<p>"Yes; but a little girl ought not to make a very reverend and pious and -good clergyman uncomfortable."</p> - -<p>"I never before thought he was reverend and pious," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Well, he is; he's a clergyman of the Church of Ireland."</p> - -<p>"Do they all play <i>puss-in-the-corner</i>?" inquired Margot.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you silly, silly child. Now I'm going to show you something. It's -a great secret. You must keep it tight in your heart."</p> - -<p>"I will, auntie. The week will be up to-morrow, remember, and I think I -can bear an extra secret until then."</p> - -<p>Aunt Norah first of all walked to the door, which she locked. She then -unlocked a certain drawer in her chest of drawers and produced a little -box with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> a jeweller's name on it. She opened it and showed Margot a -small, very poor-looking ring. It was without precious stones and had a -twisted knot in the middle.</p> - -<p>"It's pretty," said Margot, dubiously. She knew good rings, having seen -so many at Arles.</p> - -<p>"Pretty! you little cat; it's lovely."</p> - -<p>"What does the twist mean?" asked Margot.</p> - -<p>"That is a true lover's knot. This is my engagement ring. Dear Samuel -went to Cork yesterday and bought it for me. Oh, Margot, when we are -really married we'll live in a wee house of our own; and you shall come -and see us, if you'll only promise not to talk about babies."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, truly I won't," said Margot. "I thought you'd like to have -them, but you evidently don't. Will your house be very nice, Auntie -Norah?"</p> - -<p>"It will be elegant, child. Not a tumble-down place like this."</p> - -<p>"There never <i>was</i> a place so perfect as Desmondstown," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"Our little house won't be so big, but it will be sweet and fresh and -pure," said Auntie Norah. "I can't bear gawds of any sort."</p> - -<p>"Can't you, auntie? I should have thought you loved them." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You don't know me a bit, Margot. I always felt you didn't."</p> - -<p>Margot smiled faintly and was silent. After a very long pause she said -slowly:</p> - -<p>"Thank you very much for showing me the ring; and I hope you'll keep -your word about telling granddad to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"We're going to tell Uncle Fergus," said Norah. "He'll break the news -to your grandfather."</p> - -<p>"Oh, won't you tell him yourself—yourselves, I mean? It sounds -so—so——"</p> - -<p>"So what?" exclaimed Norah.</p> - -<p>"Sort of cowardly," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"You have never seen my father in a passion, pushkeen. He'll be angry -at a Desmond marrying a Flannigan, and he'll let his anger out and -storm and rave, and poor Sam won't be able to bear it. It is best that -Fergus should get the brunt of it."</p> - -<p>"Are you quite—quite sure that is what you mean to do?" asked Margot -after a long pause.</p> - -<p>"Well, perhaps——"</p> - -<p>"As you are both so finicky I'd best do it for you. I'll talk to Uncle -Fergus and get him to tell granddad. I'm going to have a private talk -with Uncle Fergus to-night. Shall I tell him about you and the holy, -saintly Mr. Samuel to-night, Aunt Norah?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, to be sure, child, you have a heart and a half."</p> - -<p>"No, I've one heart, but it's big. It can hold you two and your little -ring and your <i>'mendous</i> big secret."</p> - -<p>"I think you are a nice little girl," said Norah. "Well, tell him, but -whatever you do, get him not to speak to my father till the morning."</p> - -<p>Margot promised to obey. Just before dinner that evening she asked -Uncle Fergus to walk up and down the big picture-gallery with her. All -the best pictures had been sold long ago, but still there was one very -precious Romney left, also a couple of Gainsboroughs, not at that great -master's best, and several by unknown artists.</p> - -<p>Little Margot was very fond of creeping up to the picture-gallery and -looking at the Romney. It represented a little dark-eyed girl exactly -like herself. She did not know the likeness, but everyone else remarked -it, and the people of the neighbourhood invariably said:</p> - -<p>"Oh, do—do look at the little Romney," when Margot and her grandfather -passed by.</p> - -<p>Now she stood exactly under the picture, her dark eyes raised to the -dark eyes of the little girl, who was holding an enormous bunch of -cowslips in her hands. With all her likeness to Margot she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> not the -fire of Margot in her small face. Still, Margot loved her because she -was her very own—her own ancestress, who had been born a Desmond at -Desmondstown, and had died before she was old enough to marry. "So she -is always a Desmond," said Margot, speaking, as was her custom, aloud. -"And that in itself is beautiful. I'll run to her first when I get -to Heaven—even before I see dear grandpère. I do love her. Always a -Desmond—a Desmond up in Heaven. She must be wonderfully happy. Oh, is -that you, Uncle Fergus?"</p> - -<p>Uncle Fergus joined the child. He put his arm round her slim little -waist, and they both stood together and looked up at the picture.</p> - -<p>"Do you love the Romney picture, pushkeen?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Uncle Fergus, I just adore it. She must be so happy, never to have -changed her beautiful name."</p> - -<p>"She was your great-great-great-aunt," said Uncle Fergus. "Her name was -Kathleen Desmond, and your own mother was called after her. She died -a year after that picture was taken. It is the most valuable thing we -possess. If sold it would fetch thousands of pounds, but I am going to -ask my father to give it to you for your very own, Margot."</p> - -<p>"Oh, oh, are you, Uncle Fergus? But I couldn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> sell her, you know. If -I felt she was my own, I'd keep her forever and ever and ever. She is -part of me now, I love her so much."</p> - -<p>"I don't want you to sell her, little one," said Fergus; "nor would -The Desmond hear of it. She would not be yours as long as The Desmond -lives. Then, if he consents, we will settle her on you, as well as the -dower."</p> - -<p>"Not a <i>dot</i>; I hope not a <i>dot</i>," said little Margot.</p> - -<p>"No, I said a <i>dower</i>."</p> - -<p>"Well, that's all right. How I shall pet you and love you, -Great-great-great-Aunt Kathleen Desmond; even up in heaven, where you -are now, I'll see your face in the sky, on starlight nights, looking -down at me and smiling at me."</p> - -<p>"Do you know, Margot, why I want to give you that picture?"</p> - -<p>"No, Uncle Fergus. You have a funny thought at the back of your head, -but I don't know what it is."</p> - -<p>"Because you are like her, very like her."</p> - -<p>"Am I—am I truly? Why she's quite bee-uti-ful."</p> - -<p>"Well, never mind about that, child. You asked me to meet you here and -I have come. Have you anything to say?"</p> - -<p>"They are so frightened, poor things," said <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span>Margot, suddenly restored -to the present. "They haven't got my courage nor her courage nor your -courage, so I thought that you and I had best help them."</p> - -<p>"Who on earth are you talking about, pushkeen?"</p> - -<p>"He blushes so dreadfully," continued Margot. "It's quite awfully -painful. I keep looking away from him now to ease his mind a bit. I -suppose he thinks Auntie Norah very beautiful and she thinks him very -holy."</p> - -<p>"Who on earth—what <i>do</i> you mean, pushkeen?"</p> - -<p>"Well, Uncle Fergus, they've settled it up and you can't stop it, -'cause Aunt Norah says they are both of age. I'm certain sure they are, -for I climbed up a ladder to see the bald spot on his head. It's Mr. -Flannigan and Aunt Norah, and they are going to be married at once, -almost imme<i>jit</i>, and <i>you</i> have got to tell The Desmond. She says she -is not old-young, but that she's young. I know quite well that she's -only old-young, but I don't talk of it. She's very happy, though, for -she loves him. It seems a pity that God made him ugly, for she's not -beautiful, and I don't quite like her taste. She's going to have a -teeny house, and he has bought her a little engaged-up ring. It's a -very poor sort of ring, really, truly, but oh, she <i>is</i> proud of it. -You will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> be kind to her, won't you, Uncle Fergus! Poor Aunt Norah, she -thinks it so more than lovely, going to be married. I was frightened -at first, thinking of their wee babies; but they don't seem to want to -have babies."</p> - -<p>Uncle Fergus burst into a sudden laugh, sat down on a tattered old -seat, and took Margot into his arms.</p> - -<p>"You little blessed thing," he said. "Don't whisper to anyone, Margot -asthore; keep it tight within ye. Your Aunt Norah is fifty."</p> - -<p>"What's fifty?" asked the pushkeen.</p> - -<p>"Why, half a century, of course. She's the eldest of us all, except -your Aunt Priscilla. Well, I'll do my best with The Desmond, but he'll -be rare and angry, I can tell you. His pride of birth is his greatest -pride of all, and that chap Flannigan, why he is—"</p> - -<p>"He's a clergyman of the Church of Ireland," said Margot solemnly.</p> - -<p>"My father will think nothing of that. He knows only too well that he's -the grandson of a labourer on the Desmond estate, and though he's old, -he's ten years younger than your aunt; but keep it dark, pushkeen. I -know you never let out secrets. I'll do my best for them for your sake, -my pretty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> sweet. But what a pair of fools they are, to be sure."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Uncle Fergus, don't talk like that. If we can make them joyful, -let's try. Let's try very hard."</p> - -<p>"Blessings on ye, pushkeen, I'll do my best for your sake. Now I think -we must tidy up for supper."</p> - -<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Means the Irish of <i>Ireland forever</i>.</p></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XXIV.</span> <span class="smaller">A POUND A DAY—A PICTURE AND A WEDDING.</span></h2> - -<p>Notwithstanding all her confident dreams and her bold, resolute -spirit, little Margot did not find the next day at Desmondstown either -peaceful or happy. Fergus, true to his word, told his father of Norah's -engagement. The old man stormed and raved. He sent for Norah, who -refused to go to him. His rage grew yet hotter. He said that if she did -not appear at once he would have her locked up; that no child of his -should disgrace herself by marrying a Flannigan.</p> - -<p>Samuel Flannigan was forbidden the house. He was told that his case -was hopeless. Aunt Norah, in terror, did appear and was assured by her -father that she was nothing but a blessed bit of a fool and mighty old -at that, and that she must immediately promise him that she would never -speak to that low-down fellow, Samuel Flannigan, again.</p> - -<p>Norah cried, sobbed, even screamed, and was finally locked up in her -room by The Desmond himself. Then little Margot came in and tried to -smooth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> matters and comfort the distracted old man. He looked at her -bonny face; at her glowing, rosy cheeks; at her wonderful, soft, black -eyes; at her thick, curling, black hair; and held out his arms to her. -She crept into his embrace and sat there very quiet, without speaking. -Margot was singularly wise for her age, and she knew that the time to -speak had not come yet.</p> - -<p>Presently, however, as the old man was feeling the comfort of her -presence, he was startled by one great tear splashing on his hand.</p> - -<p>"Why, my pushkeen, alanna," he said. "I thought for sure that the -Desmonds never cried—those that are true Desmonds, I mean."</p> - -<p>"It was only <i>one</i> tear, granddad," said little Margot. "I don't like -anybody to be unhappy."</p> - -<p>"Eh, now, to be sure, nor do I," said The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"But there's Aunt Norah, granddad. She is very mis'rable; she <i>is</i> fond -of Samuel."</p> - -<p>"Don't ye dare," said the old man. His whole manner changed; he pushed -her off his knee. She looked at him without reproach, but with intense -sadness, and then slowly, very slowly left the room.</p> - -<p>He was so wretched after she had gone that he felt inclined to call her -back, and to tell her that all the foolish Norah Desmonds in the wide -world and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> all the ridiculous, low-born Samuel Flannigans might marry, -if only she would stay with him and comfort him.</p> - -<p>Madam came in presently and found him alone. The one tear that Margot -had shed had dried on his horny old hand, but he kept on looking at -the hand. He did not attempt to wipe that tear—that pearl of all -price—away. It had dried itself. He thought his hand a sort of sacred -thing because it held one tear from the little pushkeen.</p> - -<p>"What ails your hand, Fergus?" asked Mary, his wife.</p> - -<p>"Oh, nothing," he replied. "Why shouldn't I have a hand in all -conscience, and why shouldn't I look at it? Where on earth is the -pushkeen?"</p> - -<p>"Why, didn't you know?" said Madam.</p> - -<p>"No; what should I know? For goodness' sake, woman, speak out!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm thinking you won't see her for a bit," said Madam; "but -she'll come back by-and-bye—very soon, most like."</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact Margot had taken up the cause of Aunt Norah and Mr. -Flannigan; and for her to take up any cause meant far more than the -people who benefited by her counsel and advice had any idea of. Now, -having left her grandfather, she tried to find Uncle Fergus; but he -was nowhere in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> the house. Then she went up to Aunt Norah's room. She -knocked at the door. She heard sobbing and moaning within.</p> - -<p>There were sounds like "Ohone! ohone! Oh, dear me, Oh, dear me! Oh, -it's me heart that's torn to tatters!"</p> - -<p>Margot could not get Aunt Norah to listen to her; so she left her. She -went to her own little room, and opening a certain drawer took out her -purse. It had been well stored by <i>la belle</i> grand'mère. There were a -great many gold pieces in it. Margot did not stop to think how many. -The sun was shining to-day. She put on a neat little dark-blue serge -frock and her pretty crimson cap, and went straight to the house where -Samuel Flannigan lived. It was a very small house and very shabby. It -was close to the church; and the front door stood open. Margot entered. -She went down the narrow hall and into the tiny front sitting-room, -where the blinds were drawn down and where Samuel Flannigan was seated, -his face buried in his hands, his great ungainly shoulders shaken with -sobs.</p> - -<p>Margot went up and touched him somewhat delicately.</p> - -<p>"I don't want you, Miss Margot," he said. "It's your sort that does the -mischief; but for you I wouldn't have lost my little girl." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Mr. Flannigan, I've done no mischief, except that I made you blush. -I'm sorry I did that—I am truly. I want to tell you that you need -never blush any more, and you'll get your little <i>wee</i> young girlie if -only you have patience and behave like a man. <i>I've</i> taken the matter -up, Mr. Flannigan, and I mean to succeed. Good-bye, now, and cheer up. -Things will come right soon, but not quite immediately. Trust me, Mr. -Flannigan, and forgive me for making you blush such an awful ugly red."</p> - -<p>Flannigan looked vacantly at the pretty child. Somehow a gleam of hope -did stir in his heart. That child was very uncommon and remarkable. -He had never, never seen her like before. He wondered whether he -could manage to run away with Norah. But ten minutes after Margot had -departed, his little flicker of courage had left him, and he sat down a -weary, desolate man, who felt very old and good-for-nothing.</p> - -<p>He was really fond of Norah, and he did not see why he should be abused -because his grandfather was a labourer on the Desmondstown estates.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Margot, having quite made up her mind, went quickly in -the direction of Phinias Maloney's bit of a houseen. She kissed the -children who were basking in the sun and picking flowers to throw them -away again. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span></p> - -<p>She snatched up the baby and covered his small face with her kisses. -Then she went into the little kitchen to Annie Maloney.</p> - -<p>"Why, whatever," exclaimed Annie; "my blessed missie, what do you want?"</p> - -<p>"Where's Phinias?" asked little Margot.</p> - -<p>"He's over beyont; ye can see him if ye look. He's planting cabbages -for the summer."</p> - -<p>"Annie," said Margot, "are you great enough to be good in a very great -cause?"</p> - -<p>"Well, now, whatever does the bit thing mean?" said Annie.</p> - -<p>"I want Phinias. Will you give him to me?"</p> - -<p>"Well, now, I'd do most things for ye, alanna, but <i>himself</i>!—I -couldn't part with himself. 'Tain't likely now, is it, missie, and he -the father of the childer?"</p> - -<p>"I only want him for about two or three days at the most," said Margot; -"and I'll pay him well," she added. "A pound for every day he's away -from you."</p> - -<p>"To be sure now, that's powerful big pay," exclaimed Mrs. Maloney. "We -could buy another piggeen, and put by for the rint, and tidy up the -place a bit."</p> - -<p>"So you can," said Margot. "We'd best make it three days." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span></p> - -<p>"To be sure, my blessed mavourneen—to be sartin sure."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm going to speak to him," said Margot. "You're a very noble -woman, Annie. He'll be back with you in three days and he'll have three -pounds to put into your hand. Now then, don't tell anybody in the world -where we have gone."</p> - -<p>"Is it a sacret?" exclaimed Annie. "Lor' love us, I dote on a sacret."</p> - -<p>"I'll go and see him at once," said Margot. "I trust you, Annie, more -than anyone else in all the world; I do indeed."</p> - -<p>"Lor' love ye, my pretty," said Annie.</p> - -<p>Margot scampered across the field. Presently she reached "himself" as -he was planting the young spring cabbages.</p> - -<p>"Phinias," said Margot, "you are just a darling."</p> - -<p>"Be I?" said Phinias. "You do use pretty words, missie, asthore."</p> - -<p>"It's what I feel, Phinias. Now I've spoken to Annie and Annie is -satisfied, and I'll pay all your expenses and my expenses, too. I can't -run away alone, because I'm too small; but Phinias, I'm going to run -away."</p> - -<p>"Lor' bless us and save us," cried Phinias, "and you the idol of The -Desmond's dear old heart." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Sometimes we must be parted from the people we love," said Margot. -"Get the cart ready as fast as you can, Phinias, and put on your best -things and come with me. You must take me straight, right away, this -blessed minit, to dear Uncle Jacko. As soon as ever I get there <i>you</i> -can go home again. And when you get home you'll carry a letter with you -which I'll have written, and you'll put it <i>yourself</i> into the hands of -The Desmond. That's all; and you'll get three pounds besides your food -and your travelling. Come along this blessed minute, Phinias; there -isn't a moment to spare."</p> - -<p>Phinias stared out of his truly Irish eyes; his wide mouth grinned a -trifle. He looked a little sheepish, a little glad, vastly surprised; -but in the end Margot got her way. She was seated beside Phinias in the -queer little cart.</p> - -<p>They went by a road they did not usually go, and arrived at a railway -station which they did not generally get to, and there they took train -for Rosslare.</p> - -<p>On the following day, quite late in the evening, Margot's little brown -face peeped round the shabby door of the study, where Uncle Jacko was -preparing his Sunday sermon.</p> - -<p>Margot gave a cry of joy and flung herself into his arms. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why, then, by the powers! isn't this too joyful altogether?" exclaimed -Uncle Jacko.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Margot, "Phinias brought me. You'll keep him for to-night, -and he'll go back to-morrow. Uncle Jacko, is Aunt Priscilla about?"</p> - -<p>"No, thank the Lord. She's gone missioning to Manchester."</p> - -<p>"I don't know what that is," said little Margot.</p> - -<p>"It's good work, very good work. She's a good woman," said Uncle Jacko.</p> - -<p>"Then we'll be alone?"</p> - -<p>"We will so, my bonny bird."</p> - -<p>"Then everything is going to come beautifully right," said Margot. -"I think God is almost <i>too</i> good, Uncle Jacko. Oh, I do love Him so -tremendously."</p> - -<p>That evening the little girl told Uncle Jacko the entire story of Aunt -Norah and Mr. Flannigan, of her grandfather's unaccountable rage and of -her own determination that Aunt Norah and Mr. Flannigan should be happy.</p> - -<p>"He—granddad—can't live without <i>me</i>, Uncle Jacko, so you see I ran -away. I'm going to send him back a letter to-morrow morning by Phinias -Maloney. The very moment he says 'yes' about Aunty you'll take me back -to him, won't you, Uncle Jacko?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I will, my sweet child, although the parting with you will be a sort -of tearing open of an old wound."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Uncle Jacko, he won't give way for a bit. We'll have some days to -play—to be just a little boy and just a little girl together."</p> - -<p>If Uncle Jacko was delighted to see Margot, old Hannah's raptures were -also beyond words.</p> - -<p>"Thank the Lord the missus is away missioning," she said, and then she -hugged and kissed, and kissed and hugged Margot, and got her old tiny -room warm and snug for her, and treated those two <i>children</i>, as she -spoke of her master and Miss Margot, to the very best that the house -could afford.</p> - -<p>Before she went to bed that night, however, Margot wrote a letter to -granddad. It ran as follows:</p> - -<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Darlingest and Best</span>:—</p> - -<p>I couldn't live even with <i>you</i> at Desmondstown unless we were -happy together. I couldn't bear to see your dear face all puckered -up with sorrow, and with anger, which the beautiful God hates; so I -have come away for a bit to Uncle Jacko; but when you feel that you -can give your bit girleen to poor Sammy, why then—then I'll <i>fly</i> -back to you, for you'll be the noblest old man in the world—nobler -than your pride; and I'll never leave you again, never, never. This -is to say that I'm here and I'm safe, and my heart is full to the -brim with love for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> you; so send for me <i>very</i> quick indeed, my own -granddad.</p> - -<p>P.S. Don't let your wee girlie get too old from sobbing. You and I, -we both know that it isn't the way of the Desmonds. Be as quick as -you can in settling the matter up.</p> - -<p class="right">Forever and forever,<span class="s3"> </span><br /> -Your <span class="smcap">Pushkeen</span>.<br /> -</p></blockquote> - -<p>This letter was read by a broken-down old man who, for three days, had -given up Margot as lost; whose heart was so completely broken with -regard to her, that he did not give either Norah or Flannigan a thought.</p> - -<p>When the old man read Margot's letter he gave vent to a sort of yell of -delight.</p> - -<p>"Why, bless the bit thing," he cried. "Madam, Madam, Fergus, Fergus, -she's safe with that good fellow, Mansfield. Wire to her to come home. -Fergus, go off at once and send a wire. Norah may go her own way. She's -nothing to me compared to my Margot—my pushkeen—my blessing."</p> - -<p>So the wire was sent, and as quickly as possible Uncle Jacko and little -Margot returned to Desmondstown. Margot flew into her grandfather's -arms.</p> - -<p>"Is it right?" she said. "May they marry?"</p> - -<p>"They may marry every single week of the year<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> from this time forward, -for all I care," said The Desmond.</p> - -<p>"Have you told them so?" asked Margot.</p> - -<p>"No, and don't want to."</p> - -<p>"Granddad, you <i>must</i>."</p> - -<p>"All right, my pushkeen."</p> - -<p>"Madam, darlin,' bring Norah down to granddad this minute."</p> - -<p>"I'll fetch her," said Fergus.</p> - -<p>He went up to his sister's room, and in a few minutes she appeared, -looking very cowed and shaken.</p> - -<p>"It's that blessed little Margot's doings," said Fergus. "No one else -would have brought him round. Loving my father as much as she does, she -was determined to give him up unless he allowed you to be happy."</p> - -<p>"I don't understand," said Norah.</p> - -<p>"Well, you needn't, colleen. Come with me now and don't keep the old -man waiting."</p> - -<p>Norah went. Margot was in her usual place on her grandfather's knee. -She would not allow him to rise. He just put out his great hand in the -direction of Norah.</p> - -<p>"Ye're looking a bit white, colleen," he said; "and weak, too, with the -weakness of the aged. I give in; you can take him. Why, there he is," -for Malachi had rushed round to the house of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span>Flannigan and brought -him straight back—a very red-eyed, feeble man, to meet his red-eyed, -feeble bride.</p> - -<p>"There, I've settled it," said The Desmond. "You can both go out and -spoon. I'm busy with my granddaughter. I had never have given in but -for her. She's as cute as she's sweet. Lor' bless her, she's the cutest -thing on earth," and then he hugged Margot close to his heart.</p> - -<p>The three Sundays were obliged to be gone through in order that the -banns might be properly read, and Margot brought her wonderful taste to -bear on the subject of the wardrobe of the bride. Knowing quite well -that her grandfather would give in, she had wired to <i>belle</i> grand'mère -from England, telling her what things she would require for the wedding.</p> - -<p>Accordingly a huge parcel arrived, containing muslins, silks, laces, -hats, gloves, stockings, shoes. Was not Margot busy during that -fortnight? Was not Bride busy helping? Did not Eileen show the taste -she—Margot—had in a far greater degree? The bride was the most -indifferent of all, for did not Samuel come at all hours to her window -and sing out to her: "Norah me honey, Norah, asthore;" and was not the -entire place alive with the excitement of a wedding in the Desmond -family?</p> - -<p>It was Margot herself, however, who superintended the making of the -bride's dress. She hired a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> sewing-machine; and bought the softest -cream satin, suitable for a bride of eighteen, and saw that it was -properly cut and prepared for old-young Auntie Norah.</p> - -<p>At last the wedding day arrived, and a great feast was to be held in -the huge dining-room when the ceremony was at an end. Nothing could -take Norah's fifty years from her, but Margot arranged her hair in a -marvellous style, and put a bunch of white roses into her dress, and -made her look as no one else could have made her look.</p> - -<p>"To be sure, she passes the years wonderful," said one old crone to -another.</p> - -<p>But it was at the wedding breakfast that little Margot shone in all her -glory. She was in very simple, pure white, and her cheeks were flushed -a little deeper than usual, and her eyes shone with a softer and more -beautiful light. By The Desmond's desire there was a chair placed for -Margot next to himself. He sat at the head of the board, but in such a -position that he could not see the old bride and bridegroom.</p> - -<p>"Margot," he whispered, "pushkeen asthore, they'll be making speeches -to drown ye like, and they'll be expecting me to take my turn. Will you -do it for me, little Margot?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span></p> - -<p>"<i>I</i> do it?" said Margot. "What sort is a speech, granddad?"</p> - -<p>"What comes into your head and what ye lets out. That's a speech."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's easy enough," said Margot. "May I say that I'm speaking for -you?"</p> - -<p>"Ye may, pushkeen asthore."</p> - -<p>So when the right moment arrived, a very, very tall old man, of immense -breadth of stature as well, stood up, holding the hand of a lovely -little dark girl.</p> - -<p>"My granddad is tired," began Margot, "and he can't speak what he -thinks, so he has put his thoughts into me. There's a bride and there's -a bridegroom sitting beyont. They were married in church this morning. -They are both of them young, for their hearts are young, and they are -mighty fond of each other entirely; and my granddad, he wishes me to -say——"</p> - -<p>"Whist, pushkeen," came from the lips of the old man. But pushkeen -could not be stopped at that moment. She was looking straight into -the happy eyes of old-young Aunt Norah, and into the blissful face of -old-young Uncle Samuel.</p> - -<p>"I'm wishing you," she said, "me and my grandfather, long, long life -and prosperity. I'm wishing that your happiness may continue and you -may <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span>always, as long as you live, play <i>puss-in-the-corner</i> and <i>blind -man's buff</i>. I'm thinking it's a very good way to begin to get married, -by playing those games; and I recommend them to the rest of my uncles -and aunts. I'll look out for husbands for them if I can, and for wives -for the boys if I can, but for me myself I don't mean to marry, being -altogether too much occupied, having one so precious as my granddad to -live with forever and forever. Amen."</p> - -<p>"Isn't she exactly like the Romney?" said a quaint old lady who was one -of the guests invited for the occasion.</p> - -<p>"Yes, to be sure, only handsomer," said her companion.</p> - -<p>"She's the sweetest, most uncommon child I ever saw," said the first -lady; "and doesn't the old man love her? He's bound up in her, bless -her little heart."</p> - -<p>A few minutes later Norah went upstairs to change her bridal robes and -put on the going-away dress which Margot had selected for her. She -never felt so stylish in her life, nor so tearful, nor so happy.</p> - -<p>"Why, Margot," she said, turning round and looking at the child. "It -was you that did it all—all. There was a time when I hated you. But -for you, I can plainly see now that I'd never have got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> my Sam. Oh, -Margot, I <i>am</i> happy. And tell me, what does the Rev. John Mansfield -think of the holy man?"</p> - -<p>"He loves him; he can't do more," said Margot.</p> - -<p>"And you love him, don't you, Margot?"</p> - -<p>"For your sake I'll begin to twist myself in that direction," said -Margot. "Now hurry, auntie, hurry, or you'll miss your train."</p> - -<p>A beautiful carriage had been provided. This had been secured out of -the proceeds of a small cheque which <i>la belle</i> grand'mère had sent to -Margot for the wedding; and the bride and bridegroom, when they went -away, were not obliged to step into Phinias Maloney's trap.</p> - -<p>"For all God's mercies, let's be thankful for that," said Aunt Norah.</p> - -<p>But Margot, as she watched them go and helped to throw slippers and -rice after them, felt that she herself would prefer the little trap.</p> - -<p>"The house is well quit of them," whispered The Desmond; but Margot -would not allow him to say these words aloud.</p> - -<p>"It's her wedding day; it has come a bit late, but let her be happy in -it, granddad."</p> - -<p>"Right you are, my dove, my blossom;" and then they sat down—the old, -old man, and the young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> child—to examine some flowers by the aid of a -microscope.</p> - -<p>All was indeed well in the heart of little Margot. She and her -grandfather were in the midst of their game, and as a matter of fact, -had forgotten Norah and her husband when Fergus came in.</p> - -<p>"This is a lucky day in the Desmond family," he said, "and to complete -it utterly, I think we ought to present little Margot with the deed of -gift which will secure to her the Romney picture whenever you pass from -this world to a better, dear sir."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I won't take it if it means <i>that</i>," said Margot. "I want granddad -to live forever and ever."</p> - -<p>"But I can't do that, my child; no one can. You are quite right, -Fergus, my son. The Romney is mine for my life, and I think my life -will last for some time yet with such a little dear to put life and joy -into it; but I should like to sign the document now to make all sure -and safe. She <i>is</i> the little Romney, only just twice as beautiful. But -we can have the deed signed at once, my son."</p> - -<p>So the deed, which Margot did not in the least understand, was brought -in by a very old man, who was a solicitor from the city of Cork; and a -great many names were put in certain places, and the old Desmond signed -his name, and Fergus Desmond his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> name, and the little Margot was -requested to write certain words in her clear, childish writing:</p> - -<p>"I accept this picture as a most sacred gift whenever my grandfather, -The Desmond, goes up to God."</p> - -<p>But the signing of this paper, coming on top of everything else, was -almost too much for the sensitive child. She had to rush from the room -to keep back her tears, for a Desmond, a proper Desmond, <i>must</i> not cry.</p> - -<p>"I tell you what, father," said Fergus, "I have been thinking that as -I, <i>too</i>, shall never marry—for I don't care for the colleens round -this part—and so, in this case, I shall eventually leave Desmondstown -to the little pushkeen, she might take back the name of Desmond, and -if she marries, as marry she will some day, her husband must take the -name with the property. Somehow, since she came to us everything has -prospered in the most wonderful way, and I'm paying off the mortgages, -and Desmondstown will be clear of all debt long before you die, father. -What do you think of the little dear taking back the old name?"</p> - -<p>"I say goroosh! I say hurrah! I say hip, hip, hurrah! I say -Erin-go-bragh! I say the Desmonds forever; and beyond and above all -other things, I say God bless the little Desmond, the future owner of -the Romney. God bless and keep her forever!" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Granddad, <i>what</i> a noise you are making," said Margot, coming in at -that moment, having got over her tears.</p> - -<p>"It was about you, my pushkeen. It's all settled and you are to be a -Desmond forever and forever and forever!"</p> - -<p>Little Margot did not understand, but she was happy beyond words; and -what <i>could</i> it matter about understanding when you are happy—too -happy even to speak?</p> - -<p class="center space-above">THE END.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Girl of High Adventure, by L. T. 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