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diff --git a/old/62734-8.txt b/old/62734-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b9aa5c7..0000000 --- a/old/62734-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9645 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Daughter of a Soldier, by L. T. Meade, -Illustrated by Charles L. Wrenn - - -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: The Daughter of a Soldier - A Colleen of South Ireland - - -Author: L. T. Meade - - - -Release Date: July 23, 2020 [eBook #62734] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAUGHTER OF A SOLDIER*** - - -E-text prepared by MWS, Martin Pettit, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 62734-h.htm or 62734-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/62734/62734-h/62734-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/62734/62734-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/daughterofsoldie00mead - - - - - -THE DAUGHTER OF A SOLDIER - -A Colleen of South Ireland - -by - -MRS. L. T. MEADE - -Author of "Oceana'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," "A - Girl of High Adventure," "Jill, - the Irresistible," etc. - -With Four Half-Tone Illustrations by Charles L. Wrenn - - - - - - -New York -Hurst & Company -Publishers - -Copyright, 1915, -by -Hurst & Company - - -[Illustration: She was listening intently to the song of the -lark.--_Page 2._] - - - - -CONTENTS. - -CHAPTER PAGE - I. PERIWINKLES 1 - - II. EAVESDROPPING 14 - - III. KINGSALA BY THE SEA 33 - - IV. THE O'SHEE 48 - - V. THE MAJOR AND HIS CHILD 59 - - VI. COLONEL HERBERT TO THE RESCUE 70 - - VII. HAPPINESS 83 - - VIII. SUMMER WITH AN EAST WIND 95 - - IX. STEP-DAUGHTERS 109 - - X. AT TEMPLEMORE 117 - - XI. THE GRAND BLÜTHNER 122 - - XII. POPSY-DAD 134 - - XIII. FLY-AWAY 156 - - XIV. FELICITY 171 - - XV. MISS PINCHIN 183 - - XVI. THE POWER OF HATRED 192 - - XVII. THE HOME OF SILENCE 200 - -XVIII. THE PEAK OF DESOLATION WHERE GOD WAS 206 - - XIX. THE LOVE THAT PASSETH KNOWLEDGE 221 - - XX. A FAILURE 236 - - XXI. THE BRIGHT SIDE OF THE SCHOOL 249 - - XXII. THE WHITE ANGEL 262 - -XXIII. THE WOUNDED HAND AND ARM 278 - - XXIV. WHITE FLOWERS AND FORGIVENESS FOREVERMORE 289 - - XXV. FUZZY-WUZZY 303 - - XXVI. THE LESSON NOT YET LEARNED 314 - -XXVII. THE LEARNING OF LIFE'S LESSON 319 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - PAGE -She was listening intently to the song of -the lark _Frontispiece_ - -She could ride by a sort of instinct. She was part -of her horse 85 - -She stretched out her arms and sang in her -glorious voice 204 - -"Stoop close to me.... You are Maureen and I -love you" 288 - - - - -THE DAUGHTER OF A SOLDIER. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -PERIWINKLES. - - -It was a glorious midsummer day in the south of Ireland; it seemed as -though the birds wanted to sing their little hearts out. The trees -were in full leaf, and every flower bloomed with extra charm and extra -perfume. The old Rectory, situated in the well-known county of Cork, -was in a very lonely part. On one side it was five miles away from the -charming little town of Kingsala, and on the other quite ten miles from -the thriving and more mercantile town of Bradley. The Rectory stood -by itself, its thirty acres of grounds surrounding it. It had a back -avenue and a winding front avenue, but its special charm was its great -fruit garden. This was generally kept locked, for the Rector was most -particular with regard to his fruit. It had in addition a great lawn, -studded over with flower-beds filled mostly with roses. Just below this -lawn was an apiary full of bees. Then there were fields, cultivated -sometimes with grass for hay, sometimes with potatoes, sometimes again -with other vegetables; but beyond the lawn and the fields were great -pasture lands full of sheep, which formed a constant source of income -to the Rector, who was not too well off. His income from his living -was exactly one pound a day, but his wife, a haughty dame, with fiery -blue eyes and red hair, had large private means; therefore Templemore -was always kept in a certain kind of order. There were the necessary -number of gardeners; the old-fashioned and queer-looking house had a -great many servants, who did their work in the Irish fashion, which was -slovenly and untidy enough; but nevertheless, they always managed to -have a good dinner for "Herself," as they called Mrs. O'Brien, being -very much afraid, "so to spake, of the wummen's tongue." That tongue -could scathe them, and they did not want to be scathed. - -On this summer day, when the story opens, Maureen lay flat on her back -and looked up, up, up, through the tall trees to the blue sky, which -peeped down through the branches at her. She was lying on a nest of -periwinkles, some white, some blue. There was clover within reach -also, and butterflies were flying here, there, and everywhere. Maureen -picked one or two periwinkles and watched the butterflies as they -flew from flower to flower. But she was not really interested either -in the butterflies or the flowers. She was listening intently to the -song of the lark, piercing, high, and clear, as he soared up from his -bed of earth to his heavenly home, until he looked a mere speck in -the ethereal distance. Close to her were the missel-thrush and the -blackbird, and the chirping, independent little Robin Redbreast, and a -few swallows darting here and there. Yes, they were all about her, they -were all around her, and they made this summer day the perfection of -bliss. - -An Irish terrier, by name Larry, with his rough coat of golden, tawny -yellow, lay by her side. Now and then Maureen fondled him with her -useful little hand--that hand which was so seldom idle, and was only -idle now because she was a trifle anxious--only a trifle, but still, -she did not feel _quite_ herself, for undoubtedly things were happening -and she did not know what they were. She wanted to know, but could not -find out. She dreaded to ask, but she dreaded the reply still more. - -Maureen was not exactly pretty, but she had what is called a lovable -face, and her uncle, the Reverend Patrick O'Brien, loved her quite as -much as he did his only daughter Kitty, aged six years, and his brave -young son Dominic, a boy who, according to the well-known Irish saying, -could lure the birds out of the bushes by the love-light that always -seemed to shine out of his honest, deep-blue eyes--those truly Irish -eyes with their thick jet-black upward-curled lashes. - -Then there was Denis, a dear little fellow, some years younger than -Dominic, but on the other hand some years older than Kitty, with her -sweet ways and angelic dimples and masses of bright golden hair. - -Maureen was the only child of Major O'Brien, twin-brother of the -Reverend Patrick O'Brien. The gallant and noble Major had died of a -wound inflicted in battle. He died in rescuing a brother soldier, but -lived long enough to obtain the Victoria Cross and to put his only -child, a little girl of six years of age, into his brother's care. - -Thus Maureen came to Templemore, and while her Aunt--Patrick O'Brien's -first wife--lived, she was a truly happy child. It was her nature to -be happy; but when she reached her eighth birthday the sweet woman who -alone ever stood in the place of a mother to the child passed on to a -happier home, and the Rector, who was so terribly broken down that he -did not recover quickly, was ordered abroad. - -A woman, sharp and knowing, fell in love with the really fascinating -widower. She was determined to win him, and win him she did. He did not -even pretend to love her; but she so worked on his feelings that when -at the end of a year he returned to Templemore, Mrs. O'Brien Number Two -accompanied him. All too quickly he found her out--all too soon were -his life and the lives of his children and that other child--in many -ways the dearest of all--rendered miserable. - -The second Mrs. O'Brien was a widow of the name of Mostyn when the -Rector married her. She was a rich woman, but in certain ways she -was stingy. She placed her two daughters at a very cheap school near -Dublin, and never allowed them to come home for the holidays. At last, -however, she knew that they would soon be old enough to return. - -Being obliged to consult her husband on the subject, she spoke -cheerfully about the life her handsome young daughters would bring into -the old place. Some day, she declared, they would be rolling in wealth, -and they should have every advantage that money even now could bestow -upon them. A rough-looking youth called Larry should be their groom; -they should have a smart little pony-carriage of their own, and could -go into Kingsala as often as the fancy pleased them. Kingsala was a -garrison town, and the poor beautiful weans should have every chance of -marrying well and of enjoying themselves. - -The Rector gave a heavy sigh. - -"Yes, that will be excellent work," pursued Mrs. O'Brien. "I shall have -one of the best rooms in the house refurnished for my girls, and get -them a Parisian maid and give them every chance. We shall have company -here then, and Maureen can help in the house. She is a very plain -child, and, eating the bread of charity as she does, she must make -herself useful in some way. Kitty will by-and-by follow in her steps; -but my children will have a very different future. You seem sometimes -to forget that fact, Patrick." - -But, alas, the Reverend Patrick O'Brien had never forgotten and never -could forget the terrible fact which had brought misery into his -hitherto happy home. He said nothing to his wife on this special -occasion--it was not his way to answer back; but a couple of days -afterwards, he ordered what was called the old phaeton and drove to the -nearest railway station, which went by the name of Farringallaway. He -took a ticket from there to the city of Cork. He had a little business -to do in the city, and in especial he had a very long talk with a -certain doctor--Dr. James Mulhalphy. The two had a long and anxious -conversation together, and the Rector returned home in the cool of the -evening with a strange weight at his heart. That heart of his was very -big and very loving, and the feeling he had was both of rejoicing and -fear, for although long ago he had insured his life and settled his own -little property on his children, Denis, Dominic, and Kitty, in those -days there was no Maureen in the house, and he had done nothing at -all for her. She was the only child of his twin-brother, who had died -leaving her in his care, but who was unable to give her even a penny. -Oh, how much the Rector loved that brother and how he adored the bonnie -bit thing! But what was to happen now to that bright darling, who kept -them all alive, who was never dull, never idle, never sulky; who never -thought of herself for a single moment? - -On this special, most lovely day, Maureen happened to be a little tired -as well as anxious. She had been rushing about since early morning, -attending to Aunt Constance, helping the inferior servants, and doing -what she could for old Pegeen. She felt that she had earned her rest -under the trees. She had a very old and tattered book beside her. -It had been given to her by her uncle, and was called _Gulliver's -Travels_; it seemed to Maureen to be a most fascinating book, and when -she told her uncle how she delighted in it, he informed her that on the -occasion of her next birthday he would give her the _Arabian Nights_ -as a present. That birthday was four months off, it was true, but what -mattered that when she had this priceless treasure to look forward to. - -The summer at Templemore was ordinarily celebrated by a rich supply of -fruit and vegetables, milk, butter, and eggs. The Reverend Patrick was -a born gardener, and his strawberries were so fine that they scented -the air as you passed them. In addition to the strawberries there were -great gooseberries of every variety, raspberries as large as thimbles, -also a fruit, not very well known now, called sugar-pears, other pears -of every description, plums of every variety, apples innumerable, and -peaches--oh, such peaches! In short, the summer of the year brought -with it plenty and abundance. It resembled Joseph's fat kine, which -were closely followed by the lean kine in the long sad winter. - -Well, this was the longest day of the year. Maureen on her next -birthday would be fourteen years of age. She had earned her rest under -the tall trees, for had she not picked the peas and shelled them, and -had she not gathered the strawberries and removed their stalks? And -had she not beaten up a great bowl of whipped cream to go with the said -strawberries? - -By-and-by Dominic came whistling along. He was accompanied by Denis, -who had hoisted Kitty on his shoulder. Kitty was the baby of the -family. She was a blue-eyed, fair-haired little girl, decidedly pretty -and with a look at times--a look which came and went--of the Reverend -Patrick O'Brien on her sweet, funny, jolly sort of face. - -"Hullo," suddenly cried Dominic. He stood still and stared at Maureen. -"Puss, whatever are you idling for?" - -"I'm not idling--I'm resting." - -"Resting? Whatever have you to be tired about?" - -It seemed to Maureen at that moment that the sun went behind a cloud -and that the fear at her heart grew greater and more tremendous. It was -a large fear, and it pressed on her like a stone. She did not want to -lie still any longer. - -"I was resting," she repeated, "and you'll all know why when -dinner-time comes along." - -"I hope Pegeen will cook the dinner properly," said Denis. "There is -such a jolly row when she doesn't, and I do so hate old Step when she's -giving vent to her feelings." - -"Dominic," suddenly exclaimed Maureen, "may I speak to you alone for a -few minutes?" - -"To be sure you may, girleen. I must say you look jolly comfortable, -and it is such a fag racing after Denis and Kitty--that is my present -employment." - -"Him is big dog," said Kitty; "Dommy makes a splendid big dog." - -"Well, I'm going to be Maureen's big dog," said Dominic, "if she -wants me. You two go off and amuse yourselves. I'll stretch on the -periwinkles here close to Maureen." - -Now it so happened that everyone in the house, more or less, obeyed -Dominic O'Brien, and before many minutes had passed he and Maureen -were seated side by side and were both looking up at the blue sky -through the mantle of green leaves which the trees threw across it. -Both were also listening to the songs of the happy birds. They were -silent for a short time, then Maureen whipped a dirty, very coarse -little handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped away some tears. She -was not the sort of child that ever cried. She had gone through a good -deal of hardship since her uncle's second marriage, but she had never -complained, and to all appearance seemed to enjoy being scolded, for -Mrs. O'Brien did scold her from morning till night, and when she was -alone with her invariably called her "Charity child, ha! ha!" - -Dominic gazed in amazement now at her tears. - -"Maureen, mavourneen, what is the matter?" - -"It is only that I am _frightened_," whispered Maureen. - -"Frightened--you? Whatever in the world about? I didn't think there was -a bogie or ghost at the back o' beyond could frighten _you_!" - -"It isn't that," whispered Maureen. "Those kind of things--why, they -are nonsense. But it's about--about--oh, Dominic, hold my hand--it's -about Uncle Pat. Haven't you noticed, Dom, dear?" - -Dominic, who had filled his mouth with clover, spat it out, looked full -at his cousin, and said, "I don't know what in the wide world you mean, -Maureen." - -"I have felt it in my sleep," she said, "and I have seen it in his -dear eyes, and that day he went to Cork, don't you remember, Dom? How -white and sad he was when he came home, and--bend close, please--to-day -Dr. Haggarty called. Step-auntie followed him into the porch--she did -not know that I was arranging sweet peas in the drawing-room, and the -drawing-room door was wide open--and I heard her say quite distinctly, -'Bless us and save us, it won't be soon surely?' And he said--oh, -Dominic, hold my hand _very_ tight--'Madam, it may not be for years, -but, on the other hand, it may be to-day or to-morrow.' 'That's a nice -look-out for me,' said Step-auntie, and then she gave a sniff, not -at all a sorry sniff, but an angry sniff, and she went back into the -house. She even came into the drawing-room, and she saw me, but she -took no more notice of me than if I was dirt. I was glad of that, at -least. Dominic, did you never guess--did you never suspect--that your -own most precious father has not been of late what he used to be?" - -"Can't say I noticed," said Dominic; "and if whatever is the matter -with him is years away, why should we fret, Maureen?" - -"Oh, oh," Maureen began to sob. - -Dominic was a most affectionate boy. He swept his strong arms now round -his little cousin's neck and kissed her many times. - -"You think too much--you feel too much," he said. "Remember that half -their time doctors are wrong. That which old Haggarty says may never -happen." - -Maureen's soft, velvety eyes looked him full in the face. - -"Don't you know what he meant?" she asked. - -"Can't say I do; but for my part I don't believe in people who say that -something--I suppose it is something ghastly--may happen years ahead." - -"_Or_ to-day _or_ to-morrow," repeated Maureen. "Dominic, hold my hand -very, very tight. You're older than me a good bit, but I think my heart -is older than yours. I must explain to you. Whenever that comes which -the doctor means----" - -"Yes," said the boy, turning a little pale. - -"It means," continued Maureen, "death! No more Uncle Patrick walking -up and down the stairs, no more Uncle Patrick preaching his beautiful -sermons to us in the church, no more Uncle Patrick taking care of the -garden and the fruit and the vegetables. He'll have gone up like the -lark did a short time ago; he'll leave his little earthly nest and go -up, up, up!" - -Dominic felt a great choking lump in his throat. - -"I say," he exclaimed suddenly, "the Pater does preach a lot lately -about what he calls the City of Gold, and old 'Step'--she doesn't like -it. I heard her say to him a couple of Sundays back, 'Patrick, you are -frightfully morbid,' and he said, 'Do you call that morbid?' I did not -dare to ask 'Step,' for she got so red and stamped her foot and said, -'Really and truly, all my plans will be upset.' I say, Maureen, can't -you go and ask the Pater?" - -"Oh, you are right enough," said Maureen; "whatever happens, you are -his own children; and his wife will look after her daughters. But oh, -Dominic, what's to become of me? There is only the world and it's -_cold_; and I know very little, for I haven't been taught much. There's -only the cold world for Maureen." - -"There's nothing of the sort," cried Dominic. "I swear that I'll share -my very last crust with you, Maureen." - -"Oh, but aren't you a darling," said the child. - -She suddenly gave him some sloppy wet kisses on his freckled face, then -she said, "You make me feel brave. When shall I go and see Uncle Pat? -We may be frightening ourselves about nothing after all." - -"Of course we may," said Dominic, who was a very cheerful sort of lad. -"I've got a grand plan. The 'Step' has driven to Kingsala to see a lot -of friends, and she put on her very, very best clothes, and a great -aigrette in her hat, which I thought wasn't right for her to wear, and -she was in blue with heaps of flowers fastened on her dress. I'll bring -father right out here. It's a perfect day, and I'll get his great thick -rug and some cushions, and he shall lie close to you, little mate, -and you can ask him anything in the wide world that you like. I don't -believe that story myself, not a bit, not a bit, but remember and never -forget that, if the worst comes, we, you and I, share our last crust -together." - -Maureen made no answer for she could not. Dominic, feeling very stiff -and tall and determined, went as far as the study door. The Reverend -Patrick lived in his study; it was his room of rooms. The lad was just -about to go in when he heard voices, which surprised him and made his -stout young heart stand still. One voice was his father's, the other -his step-mother's. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -EAVESDROPPING. - - -Dominic had never in his short life of fifteen years been known to do -an underhand or mean thing. It is true he had plenty of faults--for -what lad has not--but his virtues outshone strong passions, and nobody -in reality guessed that he possessed a wild, fearless, and adventurous -nature. - -At the present moment he stood listening as though stunned. He knew -quite well that he was eavesdropping. The study door was a little -open, and he could hear as distinctly as though he were in the room. -He did not mind eavesdropping on this occasion. In fact, he meant to -eavesdrop. What did it matter to him just then what the world thought -of him. _They_ were talking--his father--his most beloved father--and -his equally detestable step-mother; and Dominic fully resolved with all -his boyish heart to listen to each word they said, for he had caught -the word "Maureen," and he had further noticed the anguish in his -father's voice. - -"Constance, you can't do it--you cannot be so cruel!" - -"I was half-way to Kingsala," was the reply, "when it suddenly flashed -over me, Patrick, that you had better know my intentions, so I returned -on purpose. I'm going straight to see Mr. Murphy, the solicitor, and -after telling you first, I shall have a round talk with him. My talk -will be with regard to Maureen." - -"Yes," replied the Rector. - -There was a pause, but the young eavesdropper had very sharp ears. - -"You told me yourself, you silly man, that you are dying. It is true, -that having taken the best medical advice, you may possibly hold on -for a year or two, but you confess that your days are numbered. Now -a year here or there does not much matter to me. I shall be a widow -before long. Now I have my own girls to provide for--my Daisy and -my Henrietta. I can do well for them, and your insurance money and -your private means are settled on Kitty and the two boys by marriage -settlement. There is nothing, therefore, for Maureen. When you adopted -her, Patrick, you should have provided for her. I tell you, frankly and -plainly, that after your death I will do nothing for the child. Maureen -will be a beggar. She has never been properly educated, and I see -nothing for her but to go into service. If she were a little taller she -might make a parlourmaid. It is a pity she is so short and so plain. -Well, I am outspoken. I tell you the exact truth. Maureen will not get -one shilling from me, and your children's money cannot be touched; so -now you know." - -"Constance, you can speak like that to a dying man. May God forgive -your cold heart. Once, Constance, I thought you both beautiful and -good; I was even fool enough to think there was something of the angel -about you. Alas, I quickly learnt my mistake. Now, Constance, I will -tell you plainly that my children and Maureen share and share alike." - -"Ah," said Mrs. O'Brien, with a sort of groan, "how very stupid and -silly you are, Patrick; but when you talk with Mr. Murphy he will tell -you a very different story." - -"Listen to me, Constance," continued the Rector, "I know well that I -have not long to live, but I may hold out for a few years. My boys, my -girl, and I will provide for Maureen. I never told you how she came -into the family." - -"You did not; but I cannot wait to hear your romantic story now. I may -miss Mr. Murphy." - -"Constance, you must wait. It will not take up five minutes of your -time. My little brown-eyed Maureen came to me in this fashion. I had a -twin-brother. I loved him better than myself. The thought of meeting -him again is one of the joys I look forward to; he died of wounds -received in the field of battle. His young wife had died before him, -and he left his little child, Maureen, to me. I brought her up as my -own. The boys look upon her as their sister. Kitty does the same. -Little Maureen came to the Rectory, and since then her sweetness and -innocence have helped me to bear the greatest sorrow of my life--the -loss of that brother who was dearer to me than myself. Now you can go, -Constance, but Maureen shall be provided for." - -"You are about the most silly, out-of-the-world person I ever came -across," said Mrs. O'Brien. "Well, let me tell you that your story -about yourself and your twin-brother does not affect me in the least. -When you die, Maureen has to earn her living--or go to the workhouse. -Well, you know the truth. As to upsetting your marriage settlement, it -cannot be done. Ta-ta. I may not be back until very late. I was always -outspoken, and shall be to my dying day." - -The overdressed woman turned swiftly and left the room. - -Softly, very softly, Dominic hid himself behind a shabby old screen in -the narrow passage which led to the Rector's study. Mrs. O'Brien was -soon returning to Kingsala, and Mr. O'Brien, feeling himself alone, -weak and suffering, laid his head on his hands and groaned aloud. - -"My little Maureen!" he murmured. "God, my Heavenly Father, help me. -Can it be possible that what the woman says is true--that terrible -woman, whom once I loved and--and married? Oh, my God, to have to face -Maurice, my dearest brother, and tell him about little Maureen." - -Just then a light touch rested on the stricken man's shoulder. He -raised his face and saw with astonishment his young son Dominic beside -him. - -"Dad," said Dominic, "Maureen and I were talking together about you. -You can't imagine, dad, how lovely the air is outside. We were a bit -anxious about you--Maureen and I--and (as 'herself' was away) we -thought--Maureen and I did--that you might come out and lie on the -thick rug with a pile of pillows under your head. You know the spot -I mean. It is where the periwinkles grow and the tall trees shelter -us from the hottest rays of the sun. Well, it was a little plan we -made between us, Maureen and I; but when I came to fetch you--I'm not -ashamed to own it, dearest old dad,--but the door was a bit open, and -I heard voices and I listened. 'Herself' had come back and I heard her -say that she would do nothing at all for Maureen; then I heard you say, -you blessed man, that you would, when the time came, divide all your -own money between Kitty and Maureen and Denis and myself. You will do -it, won't you, dear dad?" - -"Yes, my son, if it is possible." - -"But how can it not be possible when we _all_ wish it?" asked the boy. - -"Listen, Dominic. Perhaps you had no right to overhear, but on the -other hand perhaps God meant it. Anyhow you are on my side now." - -"Dad, tell me the very truth. You are not really ill?" - -"Yes, my son, really." - -"But I mean"--the boy's voice choked--"badly?" - -"Yes, lad, very badly." - -"Still, you may live for years." - -"That's true. Now, avick, listen to me. Your step-mother will return -from visiting Murphy to-night. I greatly fear she will do what mischief -she can. I have a great dread over me, Dom; I can't quite explain it; -but to-morrow you and I will go together and see the solicitor. Oh yes, -I am quite well enough for that. I'll get the truth out of him, cost -me what it may. I won't listen to a word of what _she_ has got to say. -We'll go early in the warm part of the day and find out for ourselves -what can be done for Maureen." - -"Dad, there never was your like before. We'll go, and we'll put things -as right as possible; and now, would it at all comfort you to come out -and lie on the periwinkles where Maureen is waiting, for she has heard -a few words, nothing of any consequence, but they have troubled her, -and her dear, brave little heart is almost breaking. She loves you so -passionately." - -"Yes, we'll go," said the Rector. - -He rose very slowly, and, leaning on his son's arm, presently -approached the spot where Maureen, wondering at the long delay, was -sitting up and waiting. She had her hands clasped round her knees, and -the tears which filled her eyes a short time ago had ceased to flow, -for Maureen was not what she called a "cry-baby"; but the soft brown -eyes were all the same full of wild fear. When she saw her uncle and -cousin, however, she gave a glad exclamation, sprang to her feet, and -ran forward to meet Uncle Pat. - -"Oh, but this is heavenly," cried the child; "oh, but you have come to -me your own self, you blessed darling." Then she and Dominic between -them arranged the thick rug and the soft but shabby pillows, and the -Rector lay down while Dominic with a bright nod to his little mate ran -quickly away. - -He crept into a disused old barn at the back of the house, and there -he cried as few boys of his age do cry, silently, with a passion of -sorrow, with an anguish of grief. He made no noise as the tears slowly -rolled down over his cheeks, but the pain at his manly young heart was -almost unbearable. Maureen! to treat her as the 'Step' would certainly -treat her, and his most beloved father sooner or later to _die_. This -was the first real touch of trouble that had come to the boy, and he -felt that he could scarcely endure it. - -"But whatever happens, father and I will settle about Maureen," he said -to his troubled heart. "Darling Maureen!" - -Meanwhile Maureen herself was in her element. She might cry afterwards, -but she was certainly not going to cry now. She was a very young little -girl, but she had in many ways far more self-control than her older -cousin, and her only object now was to comfort and cheer Uncle Pat. - -"You mustn't sit out long, you know, Uncle Pat," she began, "but I'm -sure we can have half an hour. Suppose we talk of the very pleasantest -things. You begin, Uncle Pat. Tell me some of the very beautiful things -you preach about when you talk to us about the City of Gold; and may I -lay my head, very lightly--just there--on your _dear_ shoulder. I won't -tire you; I really won't. Are the gates really of pearl in your City -and the streets of gold?" - -"The Bible says so, my little girl." - -"And the souls go up and up," continued Maureen, "and enter in and go -out no more. And the Lord Jesus Christ has made mansions for them to -live in, and there is the River of Life and the Tree of Life which is -for the healing of the nations; and my Father is there. It must be -very, very nice to be there; don't you think so, Uncle Pat?" - -"Yes, Maureen." - -"But we are down here, at present," said Maureen, "so we must do with -this little bit of the earth, and I'm just awfully happy when I'm with -you and Dom. Now I want to tell you all the funny stories I can think -of. I want to make you laugh. Do you know that I'm studying French very -hard, and I came across such a strange bit the other day. It was about -the funniest story I ever read. May I try and tell it to you--only I -won't be able to do it any sort of justice?" - -"Yes, tell it to me, Maureen, my blessing." - -"Well, I'll do my best. There was James the Sixth of Scotland, who of -course, you know, became James the First of England, but this queer -story happened when he was only James the Sixth of Scotland. Well, -of course, he was a great king and lived in great state, and one day -who should visit him but an Ambassador from the great Court of Spain. -The Ambassador wore magnificent clothes, and the King was greatly -taken with him and talked very big to him, and tried to make out that -Scotland was a much better country than Spain; but the Ambassador -did not believe him, so he said, 'I see, your Majesty, that you are -surrounded by courtiers and professors of all sorts, but I don't -see anywhere a Professor of Signs.' Well, of course, King James was -dreadfully puzzled, but he was not going to give in, not for a minute; -so he said at once, 'Our great University is at Aberdeen, and of course -we have a Professor of Signs there.' 'That is most interesting,' said -the Ambassador, 'and I should much like to see him.' 'You shall,' said -the King. 'You shall go to Aberdeen to-morrow and see the Professor -of Signs.' Then the King called his learned men around him and sent -one of the most learned to Aberdeen to arrange that at the University -there should be a Professor of Signs dressed in academic robes ready -to meet the Ambassador from Spain. He came back early in the morning -and told the King it was all right. He said they had found a one-eyed -butcher who was something of a wag, and that they had induced him to -come to the University and meet the Ambassador from Spain. So the -one-eyed butcher went and sat in his chair of state in his beautiful -robes, and by-and-by the Ambassador from Spain arrived, and the other -professors came out to welcome him, and they said to him how proud -they were to meet so great and distinguished a man. 'But,' said the -Ambassador, 'I particularly want to see your Professor of Signs.' -'Oh, _that's_ all right,' said the professors; 'he is waiting for -you in the next room.' They took him in and left him alone with the -Professor of Signs. The Professor glowered at him, but didn't utter a -word. The Ambassador, however, went boldly up and raised one finger -and pointed to the Professor of Signs. Instantly the Professor of -Signs took two fingers and shook them in the face of the Ambassador, -whereupon the Ambassador took three fingers and held them very close -to the Professor of Signs. Then the Professor of Signs got very red, -and he clenched his great brawny fist and shook it violently at the -Ambassador. The Ambassador immediately went up to him and offered him -a large orange. The Professor of Signs pushed the orange away, thrust -his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a lump of oat-cake. After that -the Ambassador went into the next room. 'Well,' said the professors, -who were waiting in great anxiety, 'how did you get on?' 'Wonderful!' -said the Ambassador, 'too wonderful, I could not have believed it if I -had not seen it. When I went in I held up one finger to show him there -was _one God_, whereupon he instantly held up two to me, in order to -remind me that there was the Father and the Son. I then held up three -to him to show that I recognised the Trinity, whereupon he clenched -his mighty fist and showed me that he agreed with me. I then offered -him a beautiful orange to show him how the good God gives us of the -fruits of the earth, but he--he did better than that--he rejected the -orange and offered me oat-cake, the sustenance of man, his life. Oh, -it was marvellous!' So the Ambassador went back highly pleased to the -Court of King James I, but when he was well on his homeward journey, -the professors rushed into the room where the butcher was seated, and -they said to him, 'What do you think of the Ambassador; how did you get -on with him?' 'What did I think of him,' said the one-eyed butcher. 'I -tell you he was a mocking scoundrel, and I was all but taking his life. -He came in to me and pointed a finger at me to show that I had but _one -eye_, but I shook _two fingers_ at him to show that my _one_ eye was -as good as his two. Then he pointed three fingers at me, as much as to -say that he was the better man; but I doubled my fist in his face, and -then he brought me a bit of fruit from his country--an orange--a common -orange; and I showed him what we men of Scotland live on--oat-cake, the -staff of life.'" - -The Rector was intensely amused at Maureen's story, inquired what -French book she had got it out of, and really, for the time, in this -bright little girl's presence, he forgot himself and his anxieties. -They went on chatting and laughing. The air blew soft as a zephyr, and -Uncle Pat thought less of his troubles; the colour came into his cheeks -and the light into his eyes. Maureen from her earliest days had been a -born story-teller, and her uncle was wondering if her undoubted talent -might not be turned to account for her benefit later on. They told -many other stories, each to the other, but suddenly Maureen uttered an -exclamation. - -"Look, do look, Uncle Pat," she cried. - -There was Dominic coming towards them. He had got over his fit of -intolerable crying, and managed, by washing his face, to get rid of -the tears which had disfigured it so badly. When he saw Uncle Pat and -Maureen chatting and laughing together, he felt in a dream; but it was -a happy dream, and his spirits revived. - -"Daddy," he said, "the 'Step' is at Kingsala." - -"Yes, my boy." - -"Well, I have brought this tray out. Here is a cup of chocolate for you -which Pegeen made. I went to her myself to the kitchen and I saw her -make it, with the purest milk and not one drop of water. Then she cut -a lot of bread and butter and made some toast for you, and she clapped -her hands when she heard 'Step' was away; and here are beautiful -strawberries for yourself and Maureen and for me. We are going to have -a jolly picnic tea all together seated on the periwinkles." - -"I have had a very jolly time with Maureen. She is a very clever little -girl," said the Rector. - -"Oh, don't let's talk about me," said Maureen. "Now, sip your -chocolate, dearest darling, and let's be as merry as merry can be. Oh, -I say, aren't these strawberries gorgeous. _You_ planted them, you -know, Uncle Pat; they are the latest variety, and you said they would -be first-rate." - -"And they are," said the Rector. "I declare I feel quite hungry." - -He sipped his chocolate and ate a little of the ripe fruit, and the -children watched him and ate bread and butter and drank tea and took -what strawberries were left. By-and-by it became a trifle chill, -whereupon Maureen instantly took the part of a small mother and wrapped -her uncle up and took him back to the house. - -There was a turf fire blazing even on this hot June day in the Rector's -study, and Maureen managed to step behind and whisper to Dominic, "I -_know_. I didn't worry him by asking him. I told him stories instead. -We've just got to be _brave_, Dom, boy, and keep his spirits up. We -need not question about what we know. When I looked in his face, I felt -that I could not utter a word, for his dear face told me. It was so -very near the angels, so I had one good story which I told him, and I -invented some more, and I vote that now we call Denis and Kitty and -have some games and fun--not too noisy, you know--and I'll see the -darling, darling Uncle to bed myself. He says I'm a born story-teller, -but _I_ think I'm a born nurse. He shall be in bed before old 'Step' -comes back. I'll manage that." - -About nine o'clock Mrs. O'Brien returned. Her cold sort of beauty, for -she was still comparatively young, had a triumphant gleam in it on this -occasion. She ate a large supper heartily, and did not once inquire -about her husband's state of health. Some years ago, when her husband's -cough troubled her, she arranged a large luxurious room on the first -floor for herself, but he continued to sleep, when he could sleep at -all, in the bare apartment where he had lived with such happiness with -his first dear wife. In this room Dominic and Denis and Kitty were -born. In this room the first Mrs. O'Brien had passed on into the Holy -City. - -On this special night something induced Constance O'Brien to go up to -her husband's bedroom. He was dropping asleep as she bounced in. - -"Well, old man," she said, "you may as well know the truth. Your own -money, all your insurances, in fact, every penny you possess, will go -to your children and to no one else at your death, be it to-day or be -it to-morrow. This is owing to your marriage settlement. It is well I -have money of my own. Murphy astonished me by telling me that there -would be altogether about ten thousand pounds, including, of course, -your private means, to divide among your three children. It is as well -I have my own drop, which is a trifle more than that. Let me tell you, -Patrick--take it as a night-cap--that you have behaved in the most -disgraceful way to me; but, anyhow, I have the pleasure of informing -you that you cannot touch _one penny_ for Maureen. Yes, I _have_ that -pleasure, little spiteful interloper. I never could abide her." - -"Good-night, Constance," said Patrick O'Brien, "and try, my wife, to -keep your heart from hard thoughts. For, believe me, when you come to -stand where I now stand--on the edge of the world--you will be glad, -very glad, that you have done so." - -Mrs. O'Brien, for reply, whisked away. - -"The doctor certainly said he _might_ last for years," she whispered -under her breath. "If it only could be a little shorter! Anyhow, -Maureen has nothing. Had I known that those children will be so well -off and that he would not be able to leave me a penny, I would have -taken precious good care never to marry him. But there! for his ten -thousand pounds; I have at least fifty thousand, and I am young -still, not quite forty. I shall do my best for my own girls, and even -exaggerate a little with regard to their fortunes. Henrietta ought -to turn out quite pretty, and Daisy has the most lovely hair I ever -saw. Yes, they will both marry well; I'll see to that; and in all -probability I shall myself marry again. I know I'm good-looking. Mrs. -Rankin told me so this very day. It is a hard trial to be tied to a -broken-down husband. I told her how ill he was. I think it well to -spread these reports. He certainly doesn't _look_ as though he'd live -for years. Poor, stupid, old Pat. He thought to affect me with that -story of his brother, but I am not that sort of woman, thank goodness." - -Meanwhile another glorious summer day dawned on the world. Mr. -O'Brien ordered the phaeton to be brought round at ten o'clock, -and, accompanied by his young son Dominic, went to see Murphy, the -well-known solicitor at Kingsala. Murphy received him with the -affectionate, warm-hearted greeting which characterises good-tempered -Irishmen. O'Brien put the whole case before him. Murphy listened -attentively, tapping his heel now and then, and now and then giving a -low, significant whistle under his breath. When the story had come to -an end there was a complete silence between the two men for the space -of a minute. Dominic, who was in the background and was not noticed at -all, felt strangely uncomfortable, for he did not like the expression -in Murphy's small shrewd eyes. - -At last the solicitor spoke. - -"I saw your good lady yesterday, Mr. O'Brien." - -"Yes; she meant to call on you." - -"I am sorry to perceive that you yourself look but poorly." - -"That does not matter, Murphy. I have come here to make provision for -Maureen." - -"But," said Murphy, "marriage settlement, you know. It's impossible to -twist a marriage settlement made prior to marriage. In that you have -left everything to your own children." - -"I cannot leave Maureen with no money," said the Rector. His voice was -agitated, his face deadly pale, and there were drops of dew on his -forehead. "Is there no possible way, Mr. Murphy," he continued, "in -which my dear little niece can be provided for?" - -"Well, Mr. O'Brien, right is right, and law is law, and if your -children when they all come of age agree, with the sanction of the -trustees, Mr. Walters of Walterscourt and Mr. O'More of Moresland, to -share their money with the little girl, it can of course be done. By -the way, how old is that lad there?" - -"Fifteen," interrupted Dominic; "and I wish it done. I don't want to -wait for any coming-of-age." - -"Tut-tut, lad, you don't know the law.--Forgive me, O'Brien, but I am -not very well acquainted with your family." - -"There is my other son, Denis, aged eleven, and my baby, Kitty, aged -six." - -"Dear, dear, dear!" said Murphy. "You'd best see the trustees. I can -do nothing, and I doubt if they can until your youngest child is of -age; then of course the matter can be easily arranged and your little -property divided into four instead of three shares." - -"Thank you," said Mr. O'Brien. - -He rose feebly. "I wrote to my trustees last night," he went on, -"asking for an appointment. My time is short, and something must be -done. I will go and see them immediately." - -The tall, distinguished-looking clergyman left the room with his hand -resting on Dominic's square young shoulder. - -"I should like to spite that woman," thought Murphy, when the clergyman -had left. "How bitter--how savage she was when she spoke to me -yesterday; but God knows I can't see my way, and I am quite sure that -O'More and Walters will agree with me. Sometimes marriage settlements -can be very troublesome, although, on the other hand, they are the -salvation of many a home. Poor, dear O'Brien, how well I remember when -he signed that settlement, and the pretty, sweet girl who was with him, -looking like the angel she was. Ah, they were happy, those two. There's -a nice little sum accruing for those three children, for I see to all -O'Brien's investments; and the five thousand pounds which he has paid -for in the London Assurance has increased mightily in value. There will -really be much more than ten thousand pounds to give to those three, -but as to the little niece--well, there's a clause providing for the -education of O'Brien's own children, but not a penny, not a penny for -her. Poor little lamb, I shouldn't like to be left in my fine _lady's_ -tender care. I wonder what will happen? Upon my word, I'm downright -interested, and the poor fellow looks deadly bad. If his mind was -at rest he might hold out for a year or two, otherwise--dear, dear, -there's a lot of trouble in this world." - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -KINGSALA BY THE SEA. - - -If there was a town which was unlike any other town that was ever -built, it was Kingsala by the sea. Kingsala had a land-locked harbour -and an outer harbour beyond that, and beyond that again the mighty -Atlantic with its rolling waves; and nothing between it and America. -Kingsala lived for itself. It had in especial its World's End, a part -of the town much respected by the poor folk. Here the fish were put -out to dry, and the little half-naked children raced about in the -sunshine. They were dark-eyed, dark-browed, dark-complexioned, and it -was a well-known fact that their ancestors came from Spain in the time -of the Spanish Armada, when those who were saved settled down at the -World's End. Here they married bonny, bright-eyed Irish girls, and from -that day to this their children were dark and wild and fierce, with the -blood of the Spanish mariner in their veins. - -But beyond the World's End came the town. The town was most peculiar. -It had no foot-paths, and was full of large and straggling houses. The -principal street in the town was called Fisher Street. This led to the -Stony Way on the right, and on the left to the Long Quay. There was -also the Short Quay or Patrick's Quay. The houses were very capacious -and even handsome, and although the street view in Fisher Street was -ugly enough, the back view made up for everything, for each house, at -least on the sea-side, looked out on a garden beautifully kept, with -a low wall at the far end. In the centre of the wall was a little -gate. Opening the gate, you went down wooden steps to where a boat was -fastened. You had but to loosen the boat and step into her and float -away into the land-locked harbour, or, if you liked, go farther into -the outer harbour. - -In the summer time the whole of the beautiful land-locked harbour was -covered with a sort of phosphorescence, which caused the water to look -like living fire. Many a young lad who lived in Kingsala spent the -night in the inner harbour, stretched fast asleep in the bottom of his -boat. In the evenings hardly any of the "Quality," as they were called, -were seen in the streets. They were as a rule floating about in the -harbour, singing, chattering, laughing, or exchanging confidences one -with another. The land-locked inner harbour was in the summer months -transformed into a sort of drawing-room, where friends met friends, -exchanged the news--very small and very local--and arranged picnics at -the Platters and Dishes the next day. - -The "Quality" of Kingsala had little or nothing to do. They were -without exception gentlefolks living on their means. Work was a thing -unheard of; it was not gentlemanly. You might fish, you might hunt, but -work for a living--never. Pleasure was the order of the hour. - -Kingsala was what was called a "soft" place, which expression means -that in the summer the sun was bright and glorious without being too -hot, and that in winter the mists fell, although nobody minded them in -the least. It is true they shut out all views of the lovely harbour, -with its Old Fort at one side and its Charles Fort at the other. Frost -hardly ever visited this part of the world, but the finest of fine rain -blotted out the view completely. On these occasions the girls--and very -handsome girls they were--put on their waterproofs and flirted with -the officers in the garrison-town, meeting them in a place which was -called The Green, and enjoying life to the uttermost. These girls never -thought about age. They wanted to have a good time, and they could not -possibly tell you what age they were; the subject of age was taboo at -Kingsala. The people were good-natured and most neighbourly. - -If a very poor family of little or no means took a house there, -the said family lived as a matter of course on their neighbours, -breakfasting in one house, lunching in another, having a picnic tea in -another, and dining in a fourth. They were always welcome. They lived -practically for nothing, except for the small trifle they paid for the -rent of their dwelling. Certainly Kingsala was the home for the very -poor, but it had one peculiarity which greatly added to its many charms. - -Leaving the sea behind you, you walked up Break Heart Hill or the Green -Hill or the Stony Steps, whereupon you found yourself on what we will -call the Round Hill. Here were to be seen spacious houses, where those -who really _had_ money resided. Here were to be found the aristocracy -of the little place. - -Walking over the Round Hill, you obtained a view of every part and -every side of the inner harbour, and it was here, in the very best -position, that O'Brien's two trustees, O'More of Moresland and Walters -of Walterscourt, resided side by side. They had each a large stone -house, with big gardens and every imaginable luxury. - -These men were, for Kingsala, thought very rich indeed. Walters was -perhaps the richer, but O'More had the bigger heart. - -On the night before his intended visit to these good gentlemen, the -Rev. Patrick O'Brien wrote a letter to each telling them that he meant -to see them both at O'More's house on the following day. He said in -his letter, "I particularly want to see you both together. The matter -is of urgent moment, and I trust you will both manage to meet me at -Moresland." - -The two trustees certainly did manage to meet Mr. O'Brien. He took a -circuitous drive to Moresland in order to avoid the steepest of the -hills; thus he had to pass through the World's End. The smell of the -drying fish was very distinct, and Dominic found himself sniffing -somewhat disdainfully, whereupon his father said, "Why now, my brave -avick, whatever are you turning up your nose for?" - -"I'm sorry, pater; but I must say it's a nasty smell," said the boy. -"The place looks so terribly dirty, and all those fish hanging out to -dry give me an uncomfortable feeling." - -"Ah, laddie, it's plain to be seen, you don't know your Ireland as you -ought. Now, listen. I can tell you a hit of a yarn. It's as true as -you are sitting by my side. There was a farmer man, O'Donovan by name, -who owned a biteen of land, no bigger than a quarter of an acre, just -beyond the Beyonds, and he took it into his numbskull, after making -his fortune by that fish that you despise, to visit London town and -see the world. He was taken ill there, and not all the sights of great -London could cure him--not the King's Palace, nor the Crystal Palace, -nor the two great cathedrals (Westminster and St. Paul's), nor the -Picture Galleries. He looked at them all, forsooth, but not a word did -he utter, and he grew weaker and weaker until at last he wouldn't go -out at all, and he lay on his bed moaning just piteous to hear. Well, -avick, what do you think? He had made his home with a sister of his -who was accustomed to the place, and she had a family of children and -a husband, and she was shrewd enough to guess what ailed him, and -she also knew what would cure him, so she sent very privately to her -brother, who was still curing fish at the World's End, and one morning -what should arrive but a little parcel by post. It was packed up very -shabby, and the postman didn't seem to think much of it; but she sprang -on it, and told the postman to be off and about his business, for she -had got something that would cure her brother. She opened the parcel -just under the sick man's nose. He was nearly gone by then, but when -he smelt the fish--the dear little bit of dried fish, which the shabby -little parcel contained, he raised himself upright in bed and cried -aloud with a great strong voice, 'My native air, my native air,' and -he hugged the fish to him and kept sniffing and sniffing; and the -sister, being a knowing body, packed him back to his native air, and -he's as well as ever now. Why, talk of angels, O'Donovan, there you are -yourself. The blessings of the morning on you; and how are you finding -yourself this beautiful day?" - -A rough-looking, red-haired man came up. His nose was nothing to speak -of, but his eyes were blue as the sky. - -"Ah, and it's your Riverence," he cried. "As to me, I'm as strong and -hearty as can be. Why, it was dying I was in that horrid London. The -breath was nearly out of me; but my native air soon pulled me round. -Biddy was a cute woman, your Riverence. But come now, you don't look -too well yourself, Mr. O'Brien. It's me that is sorry to see you so -poorly-like. And is that your young son, sir? May Heaven bless him. -He's a real fine avick, but my recommend for you is to come and live in -the World's End, your Riverence. You'd soon get back your hearty ways -in a place like this." - -"I'm afraid the air would not have quite the same effect on me, -O'Donovan," said the Rector, with that beautiful gentle smile of his. -"I am glad to see you so hearty, my man. But now, I must hurry on, for -I have an appointment with Mr. O'More and can't keep him waiting." - -"And far be it from me to detain your Riverence. Ah, well, the Quality, -they will have their fads. There's no place like the World's End. Ye -could live there for ever and ever, Amen." - -"Well, good-bye, O'Donovan. My blessings on you," said the Rector. - -A few minutes later the Rector and the boy were shown into a large, -handsomely furnished dining-room at Moresland, where both Walters -and O'More were waiting for him. Each man gave the Rector a hearty -greeting, and each man shook hands with Dominic and looked him straight -in the eyes. - -A minute or two later a rough-looking wench appeared with a silver tray -piled with good things, which, as Mr. O'More remarked, "The youngster -may tackle while we are talking business." - -"Hot that you look too well yourself, O'Brien," said Walters. - -"I'd hardly know you, man," said O'More. "Come now, have a glass of -whisky punch--the very best in the land. The real potheen. It's hard -to get in these times when the excise officers are so sharp, but Mary -there keeps me well supplied. We'll just have a grand brew, and then -you can tell us what is weighing on your mind." - -The Rector certainly did feel strangely weak. But when Walters prepared -the potheen, as he alone knew how, and when the three men found -themselves with a brimming tumblerful each, "and a little one for the -kid," said O'More, they were all about to sip the cordial when O'Brien -interposed. - -"Not for my boy, thank you, O'More. He never touches that sort of -thing. He's in rude health, God bless him. As for me, I will take a sip -or two, for I get fits of tiredness now and then; nothing to grumble -at, the Lord's name be praised! But now, may I tell you why I've come?" - -"We are prepared to listen," said O'More. - -Then and there the story was told. The possibility--for the Rector did -not make it more at that moment--of his own death; and his earnest -desire that Maureen, the only child of his dead brother, should be left -provided for; that in short she should have her share with Dominic and -Denis and Kitty. - -"I have," said the Reverend Patrick, "insured my life for five thousand -pounds. I insured it in the London Assurance Company when I was a -very young man, so that I have several good bonuses. In fact, my five -thousand must be nearly six or seven thousand by now. In addition, -I have, as you know, five thousand of my own private means. Now, my -desire is, not being as strong as I could wish, to settle one-fourth -of what I possess on my little Maureen. I suppose there will be no -difficulty?" The Rector looked full up as he spoke, with his sweet, -dark, handsome eyes. "There can be no difficulty, can there, O'More?" - -"Marriage settlement," was Walters' interruption. - -"Well, yes, I did make the settlement before I married my poor dear -wife." - -"And you settled all that money on her and her children?" - -"I did, and would have settled ten times as much if I had had it to -settle. But she has long gone to the Land of the Blessed. I have -adopted Maureen, and must provide for her. I want a deed of gift to be -drawn up, giving the child an equal share with her three cousins of -whatever money there is when I pass from the world." - -O'More looked at Walters. Walters rose and paced the room. He paced -it once, and then twice; then he said abruptly, "The only way you can -provide for Maureen, Patrick, old man, is by living yourself. There is -no earthly reason why you should not live until your children are of -age; then if they wish it, we can easily draw up a deed of gift." - -"But my little Kitty is only six years old," said the Rector. "Ah, my -friends, I can't live as long as that. I know it. I don't want to talk -of it, but I know it." - -"Father, dear father, we'll manage it somehow," interrupted Dominic. - -"Sit down, laddie, and let your father speak," said Walters. "You are -down-hearted, O'Brien." - -"And for my part," said O'More, "I should like to know what is to -become of your second wife. I hear plenty of talk of her being a very -fine lady indeed. I suppose if such an unlikely thing did happen as -your being called hence, she naturally would take care of the little -one." - -"Ah, there is the trouble," said O'Brien. "My wife has abundant means -of her own. Fifty thousand pounds of her own, no less. She has two -daughters, and she intends to spend all her money on them, and refuses -to do anything for my pretty Maureen." - -O'More suddenly got up, went over to Walters and whispered something -into his ear. Walters nodded emphatically. - -"Perhaps we have no right to tell you, sir," said O'More, "but I think -the time has arrived for you to get a bit of comfort out of it. At the -time of her marriage your second wife was madly in love with you. Was -that not so?" - -"I thought it was so at the time," said O'Brien. "Well, she proved it -in a very decisive way, for we both received a letter from her lawyers -in London, Messrs. Debenham and Druce, who told us that she had made a -will in your favour, and that if by any chance she died before you, -her property was to be equally divided between you, and her children -and yours, including Maureen by name." - -"Constance _couldn't_ have said that," said the Rector. - -"She did. It is all in black and white. And I have a copy of the will, -which I asked the London lawyers for, and Maureen's name is mentioned." - -"Ah, well," said the Rector, rising, "she is a strong woman and still -quite young. I have but little chance of surviving her." - -"She has made that will in your favour," said Walters sententiously. -"And as far as I can tell has never altered it. Even the youngest of us -cannot but remember that in the midst of life we are in death. But I -must tell you plainly, O'Brien, that your _settlement_ cannot possibly -be altered until your youngest child comes of age." - -On their way home young Dominic did all that he could to cheer and help -his father. - -"You must lie down when you get in, dad, and afterwards Maureen and -I will give you a right good time on the periwinkles. Think of it, -dad--chocolate and strawberries and cream, and Maureen and I! Oh, let's -be happy in the present." - -"My boy, my boy," said the Rector, "I wish I could. With all my heart I -wish I could; but it is just the awful, terrible present which affects -me." - -Little did either of these two guess that the present was being -settled for them, and in the most unlooked-for way. - -After visiting her husband on the previous night, Mrs. O'Brien, quite -contrary to her usual custom, slept very badly. The Rector's face -seemed to haunt her, and a sudden memory haunted her still more. She -recalled what she had forgotten during the four years of her married -life--the will which she had made in favour of her husband, her own two -children, and the young O'Briens, including Maureen. By this will she -divided her very considerable property among all these people. She was -deeply in love at the time, for the Rector of Templemore was a very -fascinating man. _Then_ she had loved him; now she felt that she hated -him; but she did not hate him so completely as she hated Maureen. What -a fool she had been four years ago! She knew exactly what she must -do. This will must be replaced by another. She would go immediately, -that very day, to Murphy, and have a new will duly drawn up in case of -her death, leaving everything to her children. She knew it could be -easily done; and there was after all no great hurry, for the Rector was -dying, poor man, and the will only held good if he survived her. As she -herself was in the rudest health and was still comparatively young, -there was little chance of such a catastrophe taking place, but still -she might as well be on the safe side. That will must be replaced by -another. It was quite an easy matter. - -Behind the old house was the great empty stable-yard, paved with its -huge cobble-stones. Here on Sunday the neighbouring gentry put up their -horses and carriages in the neglected stables, and laughter and high -mirth were the order of the hour; for the gentry, grand as some of -them were, had Roman Catholic servants, Protestants being very hard to -get and very bad when they were got. The Catholic had the fear of the -priest on him; the Protestant feared no man. - -Now the stable-yard was empty, but suddenly a young groom crossed the -lady's path of vision. - -"Hullo, you, Jacobs," she said. "Come here immediately. I want to -drive to Kingsala. Get the phaeton ready and put on your livery. Make -yourself look as smart as you can." - -Jacobs scratched his head, then he pulled his forelock, and blushed -very deeply. - -"The masther, bless him, has taken the carriage and horse. He's away -with Masther Dominic. May the Almighty kape him." - -"Your master away?" exclaimed the astonished woman. - -"Yes'm. I'm thinking it's to Kingsala he's gone. Terry is driving, and -Masther Dominic and himself are seated inside the phaeton as cosy as -you plaze. The masther axed me two days back'm if I wouldn't re-paint -the carriage, for I'm what's called _Good Job_ by some people. There -ain't nothing I can't turn my hand to, so I ses to himself, 'Masther,' -ses I, 'you get me the _combustibles_, and I'll do it up foine.'" - -"I don't want to hear your wretched stories, Jacobs," said the angry -lady. "That carriage and horse belong to me. I wish to take a drive. -You have got to get me something else immediately. I must say it was -extremely rude of the Rector to dare to use my carriage without my -permission." - -"Rude of 'himself'! Why, ain't ye his wife, missus?" - -"Hold your tongue, you impertinent lad, you and your combustibles! -You can't even talk English. But now listen to me. I shall not go to -Kingsala to-day. I shall pay a call on my old friend Colonel Herbert at -Rathclaren. He will tell me what to do. Rathclaren is quite nine miles -from here, so you must get me a carriage of some sort and a horse. Do -you hear, Jacobs?" - -"Well," said Jacobs, "if ye ain't _frighted_, y'ladyship, I could run -round to Farmer Barrett's. He has a young colt, The O'Shee by name, and -he'd lend ye the dog-cart and colt and be proud to do it I'm sure." - -"Is that the colt they are training for the races?" said the lady. - -"He is that same, and is not broke in to say wholly, m'lady; but he'll -do the distance from here to Rathclaren in a twink; that is, if ye'll -put up with me a-drivin' of him, and him startin' and buck-jumping. Ye -were allus one to be brave, m'lady, and we'll get to Rathclaren in no -time at all, if you, so to spake, utters the word." - -"Yes, I say the word. Get me the colt and dogcart." - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -THE O'SHEE. - - -Mrs. O'Brien returned to the house. She was in a very bad humour; in -fact, in a shocking humour; and the first person she met was Maureen. - -"Ha--ho, come here, charity child!" - -Maureen, who was dusting the drawing-room assiduously, did not move a -muscle, but went on with her work. - -"Do you hear me, Maureen? I have spoken to you." - -"No, you haven't," said Maureen. "You spoke to somebody you called -a charity child--I'm not that. Do you want me for anything special, -step-auntie?" - -"Yes. I want to put a spoke in your wheel. Charity child or not at the -present moment, you will be one soon." - -"Step-auntie, why are you so unkind to me?" The sweet brown eyes became -slightly moist and the lovely rosy lips trembled. - -"Affected little piece," said Mrs. O'Brien. "Now, you listen to me. -Whatever you call yourself now, you _will_ be a charity child soon, but -I wish to give you a message. Tell that ridiculous old uncle of yours -that as he chose to appropriate my phaeton and horse and my coachman -to drive to Kingsala, I have made arrangements to go on most vital -business to see Colonel Herbert at Rathclaren." - -"Rathclaren!" cried Maureen; "but that's a long way off. You will never -walk the nine miles, step-auntie." - -"You hold your chatter. I know what I'm about. Jacobs has gone to fetch -Farmer Barrett's young colt and dogcart. I'm going to drive there." - -Maureen clasped her hands, and her pretty soft face turned white. - -"Oh, step-auntie, don't--don't, I beg of you. The only colt that Farmer -Barrett has got is The O'Shee, and he's not half nor quarter broken in -yet. Oh, _please_, auntie, let me go for you. I will take any message -you like. I'll bring Colonel Herbert to see you. Please, please, don't -trust yourself to that high dogcart and Jacobs, who can hardly drive -anything, and The O'Shee. I don't mind a bit walking nine miles, and -I'll do it for you. Please let me." - -But Mrs. O'Brien was too angry to be prudent. - -"Charity child," she said, "go on with your dusting, and leave me -alone. When your uncle returns, you will be able to tell him where I -am. Now, I'm off to put on my finery. If you like to make yourself -useful, which you never do like, you can come up with me to my bedroom -and fasten my boots." - -Maureen obeyed. Mrs. O'Brien's room was dainty, and -fashionable-looking, and there were all sorts of silver brushes and -boxes and trays on the table, and different condiments for improving -the complexion and making the fiery blue eyes look more fiery than ever. - -Little Maureen, bending down in her shabby frock, with her soft brown -hair falling about her shoulders, made a strange contrast to the -haughty dame. Several times she tried to speak again, to urge, to -beg, to implore, but Mrs. O'Brien was now absorbed in her toilet. She -wanted to make herself look very effective when she visited Colonel -Herbert. At last she was dressed in a style which seemed to please -her. She wore a silk dress of soft pink and a toque to match with that -horrible osprey, which Maureen so hated, for she knew, she had learnt -the terrible cruelty that takes place in obtaining the osprey. Although -she was supposed to be uneducated, she was the sort of little girl who -was always picking up odds and ends of knowledge. At last there came -the clatter of wheels, the shout of Jacobs' voice, and the sound of a -horse's hoofs as he trod the avenue. - -"Oh, auntie, if you _only_ wouldn't," said the beseeching little -Maureen. - -"Child, I will. There is no saying what may happen if I don't go." - -"May--may--I mean, would you like me to come with you?" - -"You--you little brat--no. Get out of my way!" - -Maureen said no more. Mrs. O'Brien with considerable difficulty found -herself mounted on the tall dogcart, and soon The O'Shee, the lady, and -the groom were out of sight. They went like a gust of wind, as Maureen -said afterwards. Her heart was beating wildly. She was full of untold -terror. She had no one to confide in, however, so she went, in her -accustomed, steadfast sort of way, to prepare the best dinner she could -think of for Uncle Pat. Pegeen always loved to have her in the kitchen, -and soon she was very busy shelling peas and removing the stalks from -enormous strawberries and whipping up a great bowl of cream. She hoped -that step-auntie would stay a very long time with Colonel Herbert, and -that her darling Uncle Pat would come back tired, weary, no doubt, but -with no one to worry him, when he sat down to his excellent dinner. - -Meanwhile the lady on the dogcart had a somewhat adventurous drive, for -The O'Shee, worthy of his name, bolted and jibbed and shied at every -single thing he met. Jacobs had not the slightest idea how to drive, so -Mrs. O'Brien, who had, whatever her faults, plenty of courage, took the -reins into her own hands, relegated the groom to the back seat, and by -dint of wild exertion and desperate efforts got The O'Shee to the gates -of Colonel Herbert's place, Rathclaren. - -Now the dogcart was exceedingly shabby and the half-broken-in colt was -not a pretty object, as he stood quivering and shaking, nor was Jacobs -anything to boast of, for the only decent livery was worn by the -servant who had taken the Rector and his son to Kingsala. Mrs. O'Brien -therefore made up her mind to leave Jacobs and the colt and dogcart in -a remote shady lane, while she herself walked gracefully up the avenue -to Colonel Herbert's mansion. - -Colonel Herbert was an old bachelor, one of the most noted hunters -in the neighbourhood, and exceedingly particular about his dress and -appearance. He had never liked Mrs. O'Brien, but he put up with her -for the sake of that good man, the Rector. He certainly disliked Mrs. -O'Brien's style of dress, which he considered most unsuitable for any -lady. He was, however, a gentleman--every inch of him--and when Mrs. -O'Brien explained that she had left her restless horse somewhere at the -gates, and would like to have a talk with him over a matter of extreme -privacy, he took her into his study, a luxuriously-appointed room, very -different from the poor Rector's, and inquired anxiously how his dear -friend the said Rector was. - -"But poorly," said Mrs. O'Brien. "He may, however, revive; there is no -saying. He has had the best medical advice, and I suppose will soon be -himself again." - -"I trust so, indeed," said Colonel Herbert. "Your husband, madam, is -one of the saints of God." - -"I will be honest with you," said Mrs. O'Brien. "I dislike saints." - -The Colonel was a little puzzled to know how to reply, and on such an -occasion he was invariably silent. - -"What can I do for you?" he said, after a very long pause. - -"Well, Colonel, I'm a lonely woman, and I've really no one with whom I -can talk matters over. You may possibly have heard that I personally am -well off." - -The Colonel nodded very gravely. - -"I have two dear, sweet daughters by my first husband. Their name is -Mostyn. When I married my husband, I don't mind confessing to you that -I was desperately in love with him." - -"Quite so--quite so," said the Colonel, who hated the subject of love -more than anything in the wide world. "Mrs. O'Brien," he continued, -"you had a right to give your heart to so noble a fellow. There isn't -Patrick O'Brien's equal in the whole county." - -"Ah, well," said Mrs. O'Brien, "you haven't lived with him day in and -day out. Anyhow, I was madly in love with him then, and I made a will -that in case of the extreme improbability of my dying before him, -my money, which amounts to fifty thousand pounds, should be divided -equally between the Rector, his children, a little girl called Maureen, -and of course my own two dear lovely girls. It was a noble thing to do, -don't you think so, Colonel Herbert?" - -"I certainly agree with you, madam, and it must be a great relief to -O'Brien, dear fellow. I could guess that he was always a bit upset -about his dear little niece Maureen--for poor Maurice died so suddenly -he had not a penny to leave the child--and she motherless, and his -only one. I never saw a finer pair of fellows than Pat and Maurice. Of -course you have let the Rector know all about your fine determination, -Mrs. O'Brien?" - -"Indeed, then, I have done nothing so silly," said Mrs. O'Brien. "I -must have been a bit mad when I made so ludicrous a will; but what will -not love aspire to? There is not much in it after all, for it can only -take effect if by a remote chance my poor weak husband survives me. If -I survive him, the will is so much waste paper; but to make all things -sure--for we never can tell what _may_ happen to us in this uncertain -world--I want either to have the will changed or to make a new one. To -be plain with you, Colonel, my feelings are not what they were----" - -"Dear, dear," said the Colonel; "what can possibly have changed them?" - -"Oh! a thousand things, Colonel Herbert; but principally that child--or -rather that _imp_ Maureen--I need not go into particulars; but you as -a gentleman must understand how a lady is placed. I have come here to -consult you. I want your sage advice on the subject of my new will." - -"How do you want it altered?" asked Colonel Herbert. - -"Well, I'm particularly anxious to settle all my money on my girls by -the first marriage. Can you assist me? Can you help a lonely woman to -put a wrong right?" - -"My dear Mrs. O'Brien"--the Colonel rose impatiently from his seat--"it -is absolutely impossible for me to help you. I am a retired Army man, -not a lawyer. Go to a lawyer and he will draw you up any sort of will -you desire. Now I greatly fear I am due at the County Sessions. Will -you excuse me, madam? There are good lawyers in Cork and in Kingsala. -But may I ask you one question? I know a little about Mr. O'Brien's -affairs, and I am aware of the fact that he is especially interested in -his dear little niece Maureen, the daughter of one of the best fellows -that ever breathed. I suppose in readjusting your will or making a new -one, you will not forget that sweet child who is loved by everyone in -the place." - -"Sweet child!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Brien. "Little you know her, Colonel. -I tell you she can _put on_ those manners, but she's a _nasty_ little -witch, and I _hate her_. Leave her a penny of my money--not I!" - -"Then may God forgive you, madam. Now I'm afraid I must say -good-morning." - -It so happened that Mrs. O'Brien left Colonel Herbert's house in a -towering rage. She had certainly got no comfort from that gentleman. -Had he seen the shabby dogcart, the wild, half-broken-in race-horse, -and poor Jacobs doing his best with him, matters might have turned out -differently, but he was absorbed in his own thoughts and made up his -mind to go and see the Reverend Patrick on the morrow. - -"What possessed him to marry that woman?" was his thought. - -By the time Mrs. O'Brien reached the dogcart, The O'Shee was in a wild -temper. He was stamping and pawing the ground and jumping from one side -of the road to the other. - -"It's frighted to death I be of him, m'm," said Jacobs. - -"You're a fool," said Mrs. O'Brien. "Here, hold his head while I mount." - -But The O'Shee did not wish to have his head held, and the lady in the -pale pink silk dress had considerable difficulty in mounting into the -shabby dogcart. - -"I'll give it to him, little beast," said Mrs. O'Brien, as she took the -whip from its place. - -"For the Lord's sake, ma'am, don't lay _that_ on him. He's niver had a -_sthroke_ on him in his life. He'll go mad entirely, ma'am. Oh, Mrs. -O'Brien, ma'am, you'll be kilt entirely." - -But Mrs. O'Brien's only reply was to touch Jacobs himself with the end -of the whip, and then, before he could get to his place at the back of -the dogcart, she laid the said instrument across The O'Shee's back. -The O'Shee stood still for a minute, quivering from head to foot in -unbounded amazement. - -Jacobs tried to mount, but before he could do so, the lady and the -horse were away. They went like a whirlwind; they went, as Jacobs -described it afterwards, like a streak of lightning. In vain the angry -woman tried to pull in The O'Shee; in vain she laid the whip across his -shoulders. He was off--he was away. This was truly going--this was like -flying. For the first time a sensation of fear come over the woman. She -did not dare to look back, but she knew she was alone. She also knew -one thing, that she was not going in the direction of Templemore. The -horse had it his own way this time, and he was making straight as an -arrow from a bow to one of those celebrated Irish bogs, which devour -man and beast so that they are never heard of again. Once in the bog, -you never get out; you never can. Mrs. O'Brien knew it. She knew there -was only one way of helping herself. She must spring from the dogcart -before the horse reached the bog, the great bog of Anniskail. - -Suddenly she flung the reins down; suddenly she made a leap from the -high dogcart on to a heap of stones on the soft narrow road. She gave -one terrible, piteous scream, and then lay still. Her head was doubled -under her very queerly, so that it did not seem to belong to her body. -An Irish peasant coming by presently came up to her, turned her round -and looked at her. - -"Broken neck--dead on the spot," he said to himself; and then he -thought he would begin to spread the news, until suddenly he saw in the -midst of his anxiety and his great desire to be the first with such a -piece of information, the well-known head of Farmer Barrett's O'Shee -looking at him out of the bog. He was up to his neck and shoulders, and -all the fire had gone out of him. - -The peasant untied the lady's pale pink sash. Little he cared about her -in comparison with the race-horse. Other peasants came to his relief, -and together they dragged the shivering animal out of the black, black -bog. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE MAJOR AND HIS CHILD. - - -Maureen O'Brien had all her life been the sort of child who -instinctively thought of others rather than herself. In the long, long -ago, after the death of her sweet and beautiful young French mother, -she had comforted her father by every means in her power. But when -Maureen was very young and her father was feeling that he must bear -the parting with her, and must send her to his brother to England, his -own death put an end to the necessary sacrifice. The gallant Major was -badly wounded in one of those terrible border wars, while trying to -rescue a fellow-officer, from under the range of the enemies' guns. His -brother officer lived, but Major O'Brien, after lingering long enough -to obtain the Victoria Cross, and to see his only and most beloved -brother and his little child, passed away to join his sweet young wife -again; and Maureen, who all these six years of her young life had -been taken care of in the Hills, was brought back to Ireland by Uncle -Pat. There she was much loved both by Uncle Pat, who was so very like -father, and also by his dear first wife, a gentle lady who took the -orphan child to her heart of hearts. - -In truth it would be difficult not to love Maureen, for there was -something wonderfully taking about her. She was like a little woman in -her ways, but she had the beautiful heart of a child. She was able to -see her father before he died, and the child's wonderful self-restraint -and courage amazed the Rector of Templemore. - -"You are going up to God's good and beautiful world, daddy-mine," said -Maureen. "I have read about it time and again. Oh, no, daddy mine, I'm -not going to fret; it would be selfish for Maureen to fret; wouldn't -it, daddy?" - -The dying soldier managed to whisper, "Yes, Maureen. Keep up your -heart, my brave one. You are going to my twin-brother, and Pat will be -good to you." - -Then the soldier hero ceased to speak, but there came a shining light -of triumph into his eyes, and he looked up very joyfully, and thus he -entered into his eternal rest. - -Maureen, who had promised not to fret, kept her word like the little -Briton she was, and she was in truth very happy as long as Auntie -Eileen lived; but one day the call came for auntie, and she too went -away--up--up--up like the lark, and Uncle Pat got very ill and the -doctors ordered him abroad. While there, in an evil moment, he met -the woman who became the second Mrs. O'Brien. What possessed him to -marry her could never be accounted for. People whispered, however, -each to the other, that _she_ had married him, taking the business -entirely into her own hands. Then, indeed, peace fled very quickly -from Templemore, and little Maureen began to feel the thorns of life -pricking her here, there, and everywhere. - -Maureen, who tried her best to love everyone, did her utmost to love -her aunt. She thought that if once she could get possession of that -queer, wild, fierce heart, she might be able to help dear Uncle Pat, -but her efforts were unavailing. Still the child struggled on bravely, -as such children will. There are not many of them in the world; the -few there are, are little angels of light and messengers of peace; but -Maureen never thought of herself in any sense of the word whatsoever. -She was exceedingly anxious now about Uncle Pat; but what was she to -do about step-auntie. When in India she had learned the art of riding -perfectly. She could ride almost any buck-jumping pony in the station, -and she was the admiration of her father's regiment. She kept her seat -by a sort of miracle, and was adored and petted by all the ladies and -the gentlemen alike. - -Since she had arrived at Templemore there was no horse for her to ride. -She missed this indulgence for a short time, but then she forgot it in -the real cares of life. - -On this special day when step-auntie had gone to Rathclaren, and Uncle -Pat and Dominic were in Kingsala, the little girl felt remarkably -uncomfortable. There was great quiet in the house, for Denis and -Kitty were both at school, and Pegeen was in the best of humours, with -"Herself" away, and little missie, the darlin', keeping her company. - -"Well, to be sure," said the old cook, when everything was prepared for -dinner. "I hope to the Lord the Colonel will keep herself until we has -had our male in paice and quiet. The likes of her was niver seen to my -way of thinking." - -"Oh, please don't talk against her--please," said Maureen in her gentle -voice. - -"And whyever not, to be sure, at all, at all? Why, if there's a nasty, -mane hag of a made-up woman in this wide, wide wurrld, it's herself. -It's breaking the masther's heart she be, and as to her cruelty to yez, -my purty wan, don't we all of us remark on it, and don't we just rage -about it? Oh, me fine lady indade!" - -"Pegeen, please, Pegeen," said Maureen, "I want to ask you a question -so badly. You know step-auntie has gone away with Jacobs on Farmer -Barrett's very tall dogcart with The O'Shee between the shafts." - -"Sakes alive!" cried Pegeen; "that nasty, ill-timpered, half-broken-in -colt? Herself must be mad--that's all I can say! Why, the farmer -was talking a week past that iver was; and he said he couldn't make -annytking o' the O'Shee, the little baste was so nasty in his timper. -Well, to be sure, _she'll_ break her neck, as sure as I'm here." - -"Who'll break her neck," said Maureen, whose face turned like a white -sheet. "Is it the horse or step-auntie--or--or Jacobs?" - -"Lord love ye, child, maybe it'll be the whole three ov 'em--I can't -say, I'm sure. Miss Maureen, set ye down this blessed minit, and I'll -git ye a drop of potheen." - -"No, no; you know I never touch such a thing," said Maureen. - -"Then whyiver have ye turned so white? Be the powers! ye can't luv -herself?" - -"I--I think perhaps--perhaps I do a little," said Maureen. "If she -wouldn't call me 'charity child' I'd love her. Pegeen, darling, what -does charity child mean?" - -"Bless yer swate heart, it's what ye'll niver be. Why, there ain't a -bhoy in Ireland that wouldn't stand up and say no to that!" - -"Is it very awful?" asked Maureen. - -"Don't ax no questions and ye'll be tolt no lies," was Pegeen's remark. - -Maureen remained a minute or two longer in the kitchen, then she looked -at the clock and went slowly up to her shabby bedroom. - -"Charity child or not," thought the little girl, "I must try and save -her. It's a long walk, but the day is early yet. I could quiet the poor -O'Shee. I haven't forgotten what father told me. How well I remember -his saying, 'Just a touch of your hand, Maureen, very firm and very -coaxing, and you'll get any horse to follow you round the world.'" So -the child in her little brown frock, which looked exceedingly shabby, -and with a small old, worn-out brown hat to match, started on her walk -to Rathclaren. - -Nobody saw her go. The servants, taking advantage of both master and -mistress being absent, were talking loudly in the big kitchen. The -gardeners had joined the group. Pegeen was helping the company to -porter and great chunks of kitchen cake, and they were all laughing and -joking, praising Maureen, shaking their heads sorrowfully about the -masther, and grinning with delight at the way they hoped The O'Shee -would sarve herself. - -Pegeen was a confirmed gossip, and told the story of what the child had -just said to her. - -"Charity child, indade! Bless her, bless her! Why, I--I'd just _die_ -for the likes uf her," said one of the men; and these remarks were -echoed by both men and women. "Their darling--their Miss Maureen--their -purty--purty wan! Why, now, ain't she just the light o' our eyes," said -one and all. - -And meanwhile the dinner for the poor Rector was being destroyed in the -oven, the potatoes and peas were overboiled, and all that remained of -Maureen's nice dinner was a glass dish of piled-up strawberries and a -dish of cream. - -"May the Vargin help me! The duck is done to rags!" cried Pegeen. -"Whativer now will Miss Maureen say, and the masther may be back, bate -out, anny minit. Oh, worra, worra, whativer am I to do?" - -"I'll kill a fresh wan for yez and pluck it, and ye can push it in the -oven," offered an affectionate gardener, who, according to the Irish -way, preferred any business to his own. - -Meanwhile Maureen went rapidly on her way. There was not a bit of the -country that she did not know as though it were a map stretched out -before her. She was therefore able to take several short cuts through -woods rich with summer foliage, where periwinkles and other flowers of -all sorts and descriptions grew in abundance, where moss pressed softly -under her feet, where the birds sang, the doves cooed, and all nature -was at rest and peace. - -At another time Maureen would have stood silent in the midst of the -wood and clasped her hands and thanked God for His beautiful world, but -she was too anxious to do anything of the sort now. She must at any -risk, at any cost, save step-auntie. She was a very quick walker for -her age, and got over the ground in great style. Suddenly she found -herself close to Rathclaren, having gone most of the way through shady -woods and dells. Close to the gates of Rathclaren she distinctly saw -the marks of horses' hoofs, but as she examined them they seemed to be -going away from the stately old place. There was a decided scuffle at -the beginning of a boreen or lane, and then the marks of the said hoofs -going very fast indeed. - -Maureen clasped her hands in distraction. She knew this boreen. It was -one of the most dangerous in the neighbourhood, and led straight to the -great bog of Anniskail. Suddenly she saw two men coming to meet her; -one was Colonel Herbert, who was always a special friend of hers, and -the other was poor Jacobs, who looked absolutely wild with distraction -and fear. - -"Where have you dropped from, baby?" said the pleasant voice of the -Colonel. - -"Oh--oh, Colonel Herbert," gasped Maureen, "I know a little bit about -horses, being trained when I was in India, and--and I'm so _terrified_ -about Auntie!--And what are you doing here, Jacobs?" The child's voice -got quite angry. "Why ever are you not with your mistress?" - -"It warn't my fault, missie; it warn't, indade!" - -"Oh, don't say whose fault it was. What has happened?" - -"She laid the sthroke of the whip acrost me first and thin acrost The -O'Shee, and was it to be wondered at that the baste wouldn't sthand the -whip, niver having tasted it in all his life! He jest shivered from -head to foot, and afore I could git up ahint on the dogcart, he was off -and away like a streak o' greased lightning. She druv him herself and -whipped him all the time. I went up to tell the Colonel and----" - -"Don't--don't say any more," said Maureen.--"Colonel, will you help -me?" - -"I will, my dear little girl." - -"There is Anniskail at the other end of this road," said the child. -"Oh, oh, how am I to bear it!" - -"There's my dogcart coming down the avenue, dear. Jump up beside me, -and we'll go straight for the bog. I have ropes and things handy, and -we may pull her out if we don't delay a second." - -Maureen, like a little sprite of the air, was soon seated beside the -Colonel on the dogcart. How fast they went--how fast! How close they -got to disaster, to tragedy unspeakable! The Colonel guessed the -worst; he did not attempt to speak. The child shivered but kept her -self-control. - -Jacobs and the Colonel's own groom were seated at the back of the -dogcart. Colonel Herbert's powerful horse covered the ground with right -good-will. Almost the whole of the lane was more or less boggy, and -great splashes of soft mud flew up as the dogcart got over the ground. - -Suddenly the Colonel pulled up his horse, threw the reins to his groom, -and motioned to Jacobs to follow him. - -"There has been a spill," he said. "It is no sight for little girls. -You'd best stay where you are, Maureen, acushla. We'll do all that -human beings can, and a lot of peasants are there already." - -"And do you think I am going to stay behind?" said Maureen. "Oh, there, -I see her pink dress! Oh, poor step-auntie! Yes, I will go--I will! -She has only fallen--she'll be all right. You can't keep me back--I -will go. She may call me charity child every day of her life, but I -don't mind. I'm going to her now." - -The Colonel took the little hot hand. There was something impossible to -resist about Maureen. - -In a very few minutes they found themselves the centre of a group of -rough-looking men and women. - -"Ah, thin, bless yer heart, Colonel dear; ah, thin, it's the neck of -her is broke entirely. See for yer-self. She _was_ a foolish woman. -The bog would have quieted the horse, and she'd have had a few minutes -afore she went under; but no, she'd no sinse at all, at all, and out -she lepped on to that big lot o' stones, and the neck of her was broke." - -"I war the first to find her, sir," said an old peasant. "I saw at -wanst she was as dead as a tenpenny nail, so I tuk her sash and made a -sort o' rope wid it and pulled the poor baste ashore. He's safe enough -is The O'Shee; but herself, glory be to God, she's bruk her neck! Why, -Miss Maureen, I didn't see ye, me darlint; don't ye cry now!" - -"I'm not going to cry," said the child. "Do turn her round very gently. -Do at least _try_ to make her look nice! Poor, poor step-auntie, poor -step-auntie! Colonel, get me some water. I want to wash her face. -Colonel, you must help me to tell Uncle Pat." - -The amazing presence of mind of the child soothed the excited Irish -folk. One after another they brought her what she required, and -finally the poor body was laid on a shutter and brought into a cabin -near by. It looked quite peaceful, and no one living had seen that -terrible leap nor heard that most piercing shriek. - -"We must leave her here at present," said the Colonel, turning to -Maureen. - -"Yes; she and I will stay together," said the child. "She isn't angry -with me any longer. God has taken away her anger. See, she smiles. You -must break it to Uncle Pat, Colonel. I'll stay with her until she can -be moved." - -"She shall be moved to my house at Rathclaren," said the Colonel. "It -can easily be managed, my brave little girl. But you can do no good -here. Had you not better come with me?" - -"No, no; I'll stay with her. She's not angry with me any longer. -Please, Colonel, be _very_ quick, and don't frighten Uncle Pat, for -he's far from strong." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -COLONEL HERBERT TO THE RESCUE. - - -There are times in life when the brain ceases to act--that is, -consecutively--when the heart ceases to perform its usual functions, -and when all life, and all that life means, becomes topsy-turvy. This -happened to be the case with little Maureen O'Brien. When she entered -Colonel Herbert's house looking brave and upright, never shedding a -tear nor uttering a sigh, that brave little heart of hers suddenly -gave way. She fell down in a deep and prolonged swoon. When she came -to herself again she was in a small white bed, and two nurses were -taking care of her. She did not recognise the room, and she did not -recognise the nurses. They were of no moment to her. She passed quickly -away again into a sort of trance, not a death trance by any means, -but a fever trance. During that time she talked a great deal about -step-auntie, and said with bright, uplifted eyes: "I don't mind being a -charity child, step-auntie; I don't mind one little bit." - -Uncle Pat came to see her, and so did Dominic, but she did not know -either of them. She kept on with her eternal moan, "I don't mind being -a charity child." - -Then grave professional men came and stood by the little white bed -and felt the fluttering pulse, and said gravely that the child was -suffering from shock of a severe description. - -Uncle Pat said: "Is Maureen in danger?" - -They replied, "Yes, she is in great danger." - -Then Uncle Pat took up his abode at Rathclaren, and Colonel Herbert -endeavoured to cheer him all he could. There was a post-mortem -examination on the poor wife who had broken her neck, and then there -was her funeral, which was attended by almost everyone in the country, -for the Irish are great at going to funerals, and do not need nor -expect invitations thereto. They were interested in Mrs. O'Brien, and, -although they had hated her in life, they quite loved her in death, -because her death was so sudden and romantic, and, in short, what so -exactly fitted their Celtic natures. - -So Mrs. O'Brien was laid in the old family vault of the O'Briens in -great state and unbounded respect, and the Rector gave away money -freely, and so did Colonel Herbert, and the people got more drunk than -ever that night at public houses; and that was the earthly end of this -miserable woman. - -But meanwhile a child, quite a young child, lay close to the eternal -shores, upstairs in Colonel Herbert's house. Very weak she grew and -very faint, and the fever ran high and yet higher, until at last -Dominic, in a fit of ungovernable grief, entered the room without any -leave and held one of the little burning bands between his two manly -ones; and he held it so long and so firmly that the little hand ceased -to struggle and drops of dew came out on the white low forehead. Then -Dominic motioned to the nurse to bring eau de Cologne and water, and -the nurse, wondering at the lad and the power he showed, obeyed him to -the letter. - -All night long Dominic stayed by Maureen's side. What he suffered -in body no words can describe, but he would have gone through worse -torture for Maureen. - -The doctors came and looked and whispered to each other, and one said, -"This is too wonderful," and the other said, "She is asleep. Whatever -happens, she must not be awakened." - -Then the first doctor said to the boy, "Can you bear to kneel just as -you are kneeling all night long?" - -And Dominic answered, "I could bear it for every night of my life if it -would save her." - -So then the doctors, by Colonel Herbert's desire and by Mr. O'Brien's -desire, supported the lad as best they could with pillows, and gave -him sips of wine to drink, and one of the nurses got him to lean -partly against her. But the cramp which was so slight at first became -terrific, and the boy could have shrieked with agony. But he did not -shriek, he did not stir, for he knew without anyone telling him that -he was saving the life of his little mate. - -Dominic knelt by that bedside from six in the evening until six the -following morning, and all that time Maureen slept away her fever and -awoke to consciousness. - -"Why, Dom!" she said, in the weak, weak voice of a little bird; but -Dominic was in a dead faint on the floor, and was carried out of the -room without Maureen seeing what happened. - -He soon revived and was as well as ever again, but as long as he -lived he never forgot that night when he saved the life of his little -playmate. - -From that moment Maureen was pronounced out of danger. A turn for the -better set in, and, although the convalescence was slow, it was also -sure. She was too weary to ask questions, and for the first week of her -recovery she slept most of the time. Then Uncle Pat came in and kissed -her, and she kissed him back and looked into his sweet, grave eyes, but -still she asked no questions, nor did he volunteer any information. - -After that, weeks and weeks and weeks passed, and the summer entered -into autumn and the autumn into winter; and the winter was a very cold -one even for the south of Ireland, but Colonel Herbert's house was -well-warmed and Maureen's room contained every luxury. The two nurses, -Nurse Cecilia and Nurse Hora, delighted in their life in the luxurious -mansion, and Maureen thought her own deep thoughts. - -Autumn passed into winter, and on Christmas day Maureen was well enough -to be dressed in a pretty soft little tea-gown of white cashmere, which -Nurse Nora had made for her. Then she was laid on the couch by the -glowing turf fire, and she was told that Colonel Herbert would like to -see her. - -"Oh, but I want to see Uncle Pat," said Maureen. "I'm beginning to -remember things a little. Can I see Uncle Pat, Nurse Cecilia?" - -"I don't think you can to-day, my pretty, but the Colonel is very -anxious to have a little chat with you; only first he says you must -have your dinner. Nurse Nora has gone to fetch it now." - -Her dinner consisted of a delicious snipe, for these dainty birds -abound in the boggy parts of Ireland; and she had a little glass of -wine, very stimulating and strong. The wine brought the colour into her -sweet cheeks and made her eyes look softer and larger than ever. - -A few minutes later Colonel Herbert entered the room. He was one of -the most distinguished men in the entire county, and Rathclaren was -a perfectly kept place. The Colonel did not know much about girls or -women, however, and was a trifle nervous as he entered the room, but -when he saw the little figure on the sofa, the pink colour in the -cheeks, the soft glow in the brown eyes, the hair which had been cut -off during her illness but was now curling in tight rings all over -her pretty head, made this child of one of his greatest friends look -altogether adorable to him. - -Maureen had not lost her straightforward way. She held out a tiny hand -now, which was no longer plump or brown. - -"Dear Colonel," she said, "you are good." - -"I hate thanks," was the Colonel's reply. - -"How funny," said Maureen, with one of her merry laughs; "so do I." - -"That's right, my pushkeen; then I quite expect you and I will suit -each other." - -"We have always suited each other," said Maureen. - -"Yes, that's quite true," replied the Colonel. "And we need not talk of -the past, need we, Maureen, acushla?" - -"Why, of course not," said Maureen; "that is," she added, "not -unless you wish to. I am beginning to remember everything now most -beautifully." - -"Don't talk of it, child; don't talk of it," said the Colonel. - -"I won't--if it really hurts you," said Maureen. "I would not dream -of hurting one so good; but please, dear Colonel--you do not mind my -calling you dear Colonel, do you?" - -"Not one little scrap, alanna." - -"That is all right," said Maureen. "You must see that I cannot help -loving you. I hope you do not mind that." - -"Well--upon my word," replied Colonel Herbert, "I did not know that any -one living loved me." - -"Oh! but I do most truly. You see that you are a great soldierly man, -and my father was your friend and the bravest of all brave soldiers. -You see, dear Colonel, we are really close together. I, the daughter -of a soldier; you, a soldier your very self. I cannot help loving you -and feeling close to you, and I hope--I do hope that you do not mind--I -want you to love me oh! so dreadfully badly, and I--well, I love you -with all my heart." - -The stern old Colonel never felt tears nearer to his eyes. - -"Keep it up, child. I do not mind; in fact, I--I _rather_ like it," he -said. - -"And may I call you 'dear Colonel'?" - -"Yes, young 'un, yes." - -"How, please, I have been in your house a long time." - -"Since the summer," said the Colonel. "A matter of close on six months." - -"Well, you see, in that time a little girl gets hungry." - -"Good gracious! Sakes alive! Don't they give you enough to eat?" - -"Oh, yes," said Maureen; "_lashins_ and _lavins_. But it isn't _that_ -hunger. It's here----" She put her little white hand against her heart. -"I'm hungry for Uncle Pat, and for darling Dominic, and for Denis and -Kitty. When may I see them?" - -"That's what I have come to you about, acushla. You see, it is this -way: You had a good bit of serious illness--you're as right as a -trivet now, but it might have been the other way round. Well, things -happened that we needn't talk about, and your Uncle Pat wouldn't leave -the house--not he, blessed man!--while you were in any sort of danger; -but when all the danger was past (and I tell you, alanna, we did have -one night of it)--when it was past and over and you were quite on the -mend, the doctors who were looking after you took a good haul of him. -My word, didn't they pull him about. Sounding him here and patting -him there--they were great men, these doctors--and they said that if -your Uncle Pat went off immediately to Egypt for the winter--why, he -might get well or very nearly quite well. So, Maureen, you must forgive -me; but I made him go, and there is a curate at Templemore; and as he -couldn't go alone, Dominic went with him, and Denis and Kitty are both -at boarding-school--not the school they used to go to, but a first-rate -one in no less a place than old England; and I says to myself, says I, -'I can't have those bouncing brats back for the holidays; they'll be -too much for Maureen.'" - -"They wouldn't," murmured Maureen, but her voice was very low, and her -eyes were really now full of tears, for she was too weak to keep them -back. "They are not bouncing brats, Colonel; they are darlings!" - -"Well, well, child, they may be so to you; but you see I'm an old -bachelor and I have my notions. So it was arranged that the pair of -them should stay at school for the Christmas holidays, and for that -matter for Easter as well; and the long and short of it is this, -Maureen, that you have to put up with the old Colonel until the warm -weather comes and your Uncle returns. For when he finds Egypt too hot, -he is ordered by the doctors to go to different parts of Switzerland, -and the news of him is just of the very best. I have a letter in my -pocket for you, Maureen, written by himself with orders that I should -give it to you on Christmas Day if it was suitable." - -"Is this Christmas Day?" cried Maureen. - -"Why, yes, baby; have you forgotten everything? I wanted to bring -you up some plum-pudding, but Nurse Cecilia wouldn't allow it. She's -something of a tyrant is that woman, though she's a first-rate nurse." - -"Indeed, she is; and so is Nurse Nora," said the child. "Oh, have I -indeed forgotten so much, and has the time gone by at such a rate--and -aren't you--aren't you sick of me, dear Colonel?" - -"Well, this is about the tune of the thing," said Colonel Herbert: "I -have taken a sort of fancy to you! Oh, there, child, for the Lord's -sake! _What_ are you doing?" For Maureen had slipped off her couch and -had twined her weak little arms round the Colonel's neck, and given -the confirmed old bachelor the first kiss he had ever received since -his mother died. - -"Child, child, you'll faint, or something awful will happen!" - -"No, I won't. I'm not a bit fainty. I want to tell you that I love -you"--here came a kiss--"and you love me"--another kiss. - -"To be sure, pushkeen." - -"Then _that's_ all right. Put me back on the sofa, dear Colonel, and -then give me Uncle Pat's letter, and then go away, please; only before -you go, will you promise me one thing?" - -"What is that, acushla machree?" - -"I want you to come to me every day as you have come to-day until I am -well enough to go to you, for we have just an awful lot to do and talk -over before Uncle Pat comes back. Will you promise me, dear Colonel?" - -"Yes, child. God help me, I think I'd promise you anything." - -"Then that's all right and I _am_ happy. I think I am about the -happiest little girl in the world. I don't seem to have a care anywhere -at all--only, please, my letter!" - -"Yes, baby, only don't for goodness' sake, go and cry over it." - -"You don't like cry-babies either," said Maureen. - -"Of course not; they are detestable." - -"Now my letter, please. Whatever you find in me, you won't find me a -cry-baby." - -The Colonel dropped a little packet into the child's bands and softly -left the room. - -"'Pon my word," he muttered to himself. "'Pon my word. I never could -abide a wife, but a child like that of my very own, I could put up with -her--'pon my word!" - -Maureen lay for a few minutes after Colonel Herbert had left her with -the unopened packet clasped in her two little white bands; and her eyes -looked brighter than ever and her cheeks more rosy. In the packet were -first of all quantities of enormous violets, which could be put into -warm water and would revive by-and-by. Then there came two letters, one -from Dominic and one from Uncle Pat. - -Uncle Pat's letter was rather short. It ran somewhat as follows: - - - "BEST OF DARLINGS:--I get grand news of you from that fine fellow, - Herbert, and if you are well enough to receive my Christmas - greeting, here it is for you! The violets are from Dom. He's - turning into a grand lad, and talks French to the manner born. - Oh, what stories I shall have to tell you when I come home, for, - Maureen--dear little Maureen--I am getting _well_. Each day I feel - stronger. I am quite certain that with God's help I shall be with - you when the long days come round again, and then what 'lashins' - we'll have to talk to each other. Meanwhile, it is thought best - for you to stay with the Colonel. You must be very sweet to him, - and not bother him more than you can help; but you might ask him - to lend you some books, for he has got quantities, and he is quite - a famous Egyptologist, and you will like to know about the place - where I am now regaining my health. - - "God bless you, my darling. God above keep you! - - UNCLE PAT." - - "P.S.--I send you a cheque for £500 to do what you like with." - - -The other letter was also short, but it seemed to go straight into -Maureen's heart: - - - "Hurrah, playmate, good news--the best! The pater is getting well. - We're having a right jolly time in this jolly place, and if you - were with us it would be nothing short of perfection. I never did - see such a magnificent country as Egypt. Oh, Maureen, the blue - of the sky! And, oh, the soft delicious feel of the air; and no - thought of rain, for of course it never rains. One day a week ago I - went out and saw the three pyramids. I went out with a boy I came - across, and he explained everything to me. He is a jolly sort, and - his name is Oliver. There was the Great Pyramid with its steps, and - we climbed it--every single step up to the top, and the two smaller - pyramids; but the most wonderful thing of all was the Sphinx. I - can't describe her to you except that she looked _inscrutable_ - and wise with all the wisdom of all the ages. There was a majesty - about her; but there, I can't write tommyrot. We had tea afterwards - at the Meena House Hotel, and then we came back in the cool of the - evening. Oh, Maureen, the world is a big, big place, and I want - to be a big traveller and see every inch of it. Good-bye for the - present, my little darling.--YOUR LOVING OLD DOM." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -HAPPINESS. - - -There come in life moments, perhaps hours, perhaps days, perhaps even -months of perfect bliss, and this glorious happening--these sunshiny -days, hours, and months--came to little Maureen O'Brien while she -lived with Colonel Herbert. She had undoubtedly had a most severe -shock, and as her illness had been long and dangerous, so undoubtedly -was her recovery somewhat tedious; but by degrees her little larklike -voice could be heard singing about the house; and then all kinds of -indescribable changes took place at Rathclaren. It was a handsome -and stately home before Maureen arrived there, but now it became a -beautiful home. The Colonel could not quite make out what had altered -it. He did not know that a great nest of daffodils in a certain corner -of his vast library made the room all aglow with light. He could not -guess why the piano began to sound in the old-fashioned drawing-room, -and why a pretty soft voice sang all kinds of old-fashioned songs--"The -Dark Rosaleen" for one, "The Wearing o' the Green" for another, and -Moore's inimitable melodies-- - - - "Oh, there's nothing half so sweet in life - As love's young dream!" - - -The Colonel had heard those words ages ago, and he now crept cautiously -into the drawing-room and stood behind the little singer. - -Certainly her voice was not strong, but it was at that stage of her -growth a high soprano, and very clear and very true, so when she sang -"When Malachi Wore His Collar of Gold," "The Vale of Avoca," "Believe -Me, if all those Endearing Young Charms," "The Minstrel Boy," "Those -Evening Bells," "Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore," "The Last Bose -of Summer," and "The Harp that Once Through Tara's Halls," the Colonel -felt as though he were living in a new world. - -When he discovered Maureen's gift he did not get the piano tuned, which -most men would have done, but got a beautiful new _boudoir grand_ put -in its place; and a master came twice a week from Kingsala to train -a voice that needed no training, for it was Nature's voice, just as -the birds' voices are. Thus the Colonel was intensely happy. The days -sped by, and Maureen's passion for music was gratified. Evening after -evening the "dear Colonel" and Maureen used to enjoy those incomparable -melodies together, the child singing her heart away, the man listening, -never speaking, never praising, but with his own heart full to the brim -of love for this queer little creature. He loved to spend money on -Maureen, and consulted his excellent housekeeper, and bought the child -suitable frocks and pretty jackets and hats, and when she was strong -enough he took her out riding with him. - -The first ride was a bit of a trial to the child, for she could not -help thinking of poor step-auntie and The O'Shee, but after that she -enjoyed herself immensely. To the astonishment of the Colonel, he found -that he had to teach her nothing. She could ride by a sort of instinct; -she was part of her horse. He got her a dark Lincoln green habit, and -a little green velvet cap with a heron's feather in it; and no sweeter -sight could have been seen than the little maid and the elderly man as -they crossed country side by side. - -[Illustration: She could ride by a sort of instinct; she was part of -her horse.--_Page 85._] - -But the Colonel knew what Maureen did not, that this golden time in his -life was but an episode, that Maureen did not belong to him, and that -soon--ah! too soon--the sweet presence and the voice like a bird's, and -the lovely brown eyes, would leave Rathclaren and go back again to old -Templemore, where Dominic and his father would be anxiously waiting for -her. - -While these things were happening at Rathclaren and Maureen by -no effort at all on her part was making herself the idol of the -entire establishment, the Rector--dear man!--was making leaps and -bounds towards health. The feeling of health was in his veins, the -keenness of health was in his eyes. Egypt had begun to save him, and -Switzerland--selected parts, of course--did the rest of the business. -He would certainly be able to return to his parish duties in the early -summer, just when Templemore was in its prime, when the fat kine were -prosperous, and the lean kine had disappeared for the present. - -The Rector was by no means sorry to live. He had been content to -die--God's will was his--and he never struggled against the inevitable; -but now that earthly life was really restored to him in the most -marvellous and unexpected way, he gave himself up to the enjoyment of -it. His wife's will troubled him, however, not a little. At first, that -is, immediately after her death, it troubled him profoundly, but then -Maureen's severe illness caused every thought, except of her, to fade -from his mind; but when she got better and the danger passed away, the -Rector's conscience smote him very hard with regard to the will. He -went to see Murphy at Kingsala, he went to see O'More and Walters, and -he said the same thing to each and all, - -"That will ought not to be acted on. My poor wife died through an -accident. Had she lived she would have altered her will, for she told -me so just before her death, poor dear. In fact, I was supposed to know -nothing of this will, which was made just before our marriage, when -she fancied she loved me; but she certainly told me most distinctly -quite lately that all her money would belong to her own two daughters. -Then she was killed--you know how. The will turned up. You had a -copy, O'More, and we have heard from Debenham and Druce; but I -cannot possibly see how we can act upon it--I mean as gentlemen and -Christians. We take advantage of a terrible accident to destroy all my -poor wife's hopes with regard to her girls." - -Then Murphy said, "Now whist awhile, your Reverence, and I'll come and -see you in a few days at Templemore. This requires thinking over. These -aren't the days of chivalry, O'Brien, my man. Go home, rest quiet, be -thankful the life of the little one is spared, and do nothing until you -see me, for I'll come over to Templemore one fine morning, and have a -bit of news for you as like as not." - -The Rector waited with what patience he could, and the longer he -waited the more sensitive did his conscience become. But at last, -to his unbounded amazement, Dominic rushed in to inform him that an -outside car was coming down the avenue, and there were four men on -it, to say nothing of the driver; and when the four men stepped into -the old house, which looked most sadly shabby without Maureen's care, -the Rector found himself in the presence of Murphy the lawyer, of Mr. -O'More, Mr. Walters, and of Mr. Debenham, head of the great firm of -solicitors in Chancery Lane. - -Now these men began at once to talk to the Rector, and they talked -in a wonderfully convincing way. Their argument was this: First and -foremost, the late Mrs. O'Brien had very much undervalued her property, -which amounted not to fifty thousand pounds, but after all death -duties had been paid would represent the very comfortable figure of -between eighty and ninety thousand pounds. This money, by the lady's -desire, had remained untouched since her second marriage, and the -lawyers, Debenham and Druce, by wise investments had increased the -original capital very much. How by the terms of the will this sum was -to be divided in equal portions among Mrs. O'Brien's two daughters, -the Misses Mostyn, the Rector's three children and his niece, Maureen -O'Brien, and further, an equal share was to be given to the Rector -himself. - -"That is precisely how the will stands, Mr. O'Brien," said Debenham, -in his extremely refined English voice, "and as all the inheritors, -with the exception of yourself, are much under age, nothing whatsoever -can be done to alter it until your youngest child comes of age. Now I -drew up this will for the late Mrs. O'Brien. She was most sincere in -her wish at the time that you and yours should share her wealth with -her own two daughters. The fact is, the late Mostyn was old enough -to be her father. He was a city merchant and made his pile, although -it amounted to nothing like what he would have made, had he not been -suddenly stricken down by apoplexy. His wife and he led a cat-and-dog -life together, and I think his death was a great relief to the poor -woman. Anyhow, be that as it may, Mr. O'Brien, you can part with your -share of the property if you like, but the portions set aside for -the children cannot possibly be interfered with. I and my partner are -trustees for the children's share of the property, and I shall provide -them with ample means, which the will allows for their education, until -they each come of age; more I cannot do. They will each be fairly well -off, and I should strongly advise you, Mr. O'Brien, to take your own -share and make no bones about it. The whole thing seems to me to be an -interposition of Providence to prevent an angry and irresponsible woman -from carrying out her designs. You will all be comfortably off, and I -think if she could speak to you now, she would beg of you not to make -your family unhappy by refusing to receive your share of the profits. -After all, Mr. O'Brien, it was _you_ she loved when she made the will. -She did not know the children." - -"God help me!" said Mr. O'Brien. "Poor Constance, I never understood -her! If you really think it would please her, sirs----" - -"Please her--naturally it would please her!" said O'More. - -"And I shall not require it long," continued the Rector, who little -guessed on that sorrowful day that he was to become quite well once -more. - -"There is a provision made for that in the will, sir," said Mr. -Debenham, "which gives your share in equal proportions to the six -children, so I do not see how in _any_ case you can touch it or -interfere with it. That's a fine boy of yours," continued Debenham. "I -rather guess that he will make money of his own, and not require any -help from any one." - -All these things happened while Maureen was ill, and she naturally knew -nothing about them, and nothing whatever about the little fortune which -had been left her by step-auntie; but as the days flew on, and April -followed March and May followed April, more and more deeply did Colonel -Herbert hate that will, for if it were not in existence he would simply -force O'Brien to give him Maureen to be his forever, to share his -money, his love, and his home. - -How it so happened that while the Rector was coming by leaps and bounds -back again to life and health, two girls at school were mourning not so -much for their mother, who, as a matter of fact, they did not like, but -because they were not the heiresses they had hitherto called themselves -to their schoolfellows. - -Mr. Debenham called to see these girls, one day, at their showy school -near Dublin. They were like each other, and painfully like the dead -woman. The lawyer could not help uttering a quick sigh when he saw -them. Henrietta was the taller and stronger of the two. She was what -might be described as a "bouncing young maid," very much developed in -figure, with her mother's fiery blue eyes and her mother's auburn hair -which tended to red. That hair was all fluffy and curly and untidy -about her head. She was not a pretty girl; she had too many freckles -for that; and her nose had a little tilt up at the end, which gave -to Henrietta Mostyn a particularly impertinent appearance. Daisy was -very like her sister, but with a difference; her eyes were smaller and -closer together, she had a cunning look about her, and her hair was -of a flaxen shade without a touch of gold in it. Her eyebrows were -the same colour as her hair, and her eyelashes were white. She was -altogether the sort of girl whom you would rather not know, for there -was a cunning, deceitful expression about her face, which no effort on -her part could conceal. - -"Well, so we are robbed," said Henrietta. "Poor mumsie-pumsie went to -smash, and we are robbed. That's a nice look-out. Of course, you'll -manage, Mr. Debenham, that those horrid O'Briens don't get our money." - -"They shan't get _your_ money, Miss Mostyn," said the lawyer, "but -they'll get their own." - -"Whatever do you mean by that? Then we do get mumsie's fortune. I said -so to Daisy last night. When I want to tease her I call her _Dy_sy." - -"I don't think I care to listen to your remarks," said Mr. Debenham. -"Your poor mother died in a very terrible way." - -"Oh, don't tell me, or I'll shriek," said Daisy. "Hold me, Henny, hold -me, Henny; I'll shriek!" - -"Silly child," said the lawyer, "have you no self-control? I have -spoken to the head-mistress of your school, Mrs. Henderson, and she -understands that owing to circumstances you are not to remain here -after the summer holidays. That is the wish of your step-father and -guardian, the Reverend Patrick O'Brien. You will probably be sent to -another school, which I will recommend." - -"But our money--the chink," said Daisy; "that's the main thing." - -"You get your share, Miss Daisy. Your mother's money is divided into -seven portions. Until you come of age, or marry, a certain portion -will be spent on your education. After that the capital will be yours -to do as you wish with. You each of you have, roughly speaking, about -thirteen thousand pounds." - -"Is that all?" cried Henrietta. "Why, mumsie said that we were -heiresses!" - -"You are, to that extent." - -"But she said we should have at least fifty thousand between us, and -she was going to bring us out in Dublin, and we were going to have -no end of larks. What do you mean by saying that we'll have thirteen -thousand pounds each?" - -"How old are you, Miss Mostyn?" - -"We are both of us fifteen," said Daisy. "Twins, dear little twins. -But please tell us, we want to know what has become of all the rest of -mumsie's money?" - -"She left her entire property," said the lawyer, "to be divided into -seven portions. These portions, were to be divided between yourselves, -Mrs. Mostyn's second husband, the Reverend Patrick O'Brien, his three -children, and his dear little niece. None of you can touch the capital -until you come of age. Kitty O'Brien is at present only six. Her -portion, therefore, will in all probability be the largest, as there -will be a greater time for it to accrue. By the way, your mother made -one provision, which I rather fought against, but she was determined. -You are not any of you to come of age until you are twenty-five." - -"Good gracious!" exclaimed Henny. - -Daisy burst into tears. - -"I'll be a beastly old maid by then," she sobbed. - -"Well, good-bye, children, good-bye. Your poor mother is gone, and you -must make the best of what is to you a bad job. But you have got a -delightful step-father, who will do his utmost for you so as to bring -you up in the fear of God, and I am sure you cannot help liking his -dear children." - -"If you mean that I am going to like that beastly little niece, you're -fine and mistook, Mr. Lawyer," said Daisy. "I think you are a horrid -man, and I believe, I really do, that you forged that will." - -"Good-bye, girls, and don't be silly," said Debenham. - -He said to himself as he took his seat in his motor-car: "Poor O'Brien, -I thought his troubles were ended; but I really do not think I ever saw -a more unpleasant pair of girls than the Mostyns. Their mother over -again, only worse. Thank goodness, I've saved O'Brien from making a -fool of himself. That saintly sort of person often does that kind of -thing. That poor, dear, brave little girl, I'm afraid, will have an -awful time when the Mostyns go to Templemore. Why, the face of the one -they call Daisy is as sly and as full of mischief as a monkey's." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -SUMMER WITH AN EAST WIND. - - -The Rector had given directions that Templemore was to be re-painted -and re-papered and to a certain extent re-furnished for his return. -He was expected home on the first of June, that day of all days, when -spring has not quite died away and summer has touched everything with -her golden wings. Maureen and Colonel Herbert met the travellers when -they entered the old house, and Maureen flung her arms round Uncle -Pat's neck and kissed him over and over again. She kissed Dominic, too, -but she was mostly taken up with Uncle Pat. - -"Why, you look quite well; I do declare, you look young," said Maureen. - -"And you, my dearest baby," replied the Rector, "I never saw you look -better before." - -"Oh, that's all owing to 'dear Colonel,'" said Maureen. "He _is_ a -darling. He doesn't much like my leaving him, but you come first, -dearest, most dear." - -"Yes, I come first, little girl," said the Rector. - -He glanced at the Colonel as he spoke, and saw a shadow on his brow and -a curious blue look round his lips, and it suddenly flashed upon the -Rector that perhaps he was selfish in keeping Maureen; but he must keep -her now, he felt he must. Was she not his twin-brother's only child, -and was there not money enough now for everything? Money certainly was -a power. - -The Rector went up to the Colonel and began to thank him, but the -Colonel interrupted him. - -"None of that, dear old man. I'm the sort of person who cannot bear -thanks from anyone; not even from her, blessed angel. By the way, -I have bought her a horse--'Fly-away' by name. He's a thoroughbred -Arab, and I have sent his own groom with him. It would give me sincere -pleasure, Rector--unspeakable pleasure--if you would let me pay all the -expense of Fly-away and groom." - -The Rector paused before he replied; then he said slowly, "It shall be -as you wish." - -"I'll ride over to-morrow," said the Colonel, "and take Maureen for -a scamper across country. Oh, by the way, she has got a nice little -pipe of her own--not developed, of course--but it will be something -very good, by-and-by. She sings at present as the birds sing, and you -will find my present to her in the shape of a Blüthner grand in your -drawing-room. Now I will say good-bye.--Maureen, acushla, one kiss. I'm -coming back to-morrow." - -"Yes, 'dear Colonel,' yes," said Maureen, and she pressed the withered -cheek several times with her rosy lips, and the Colonel went away, a -sadly broken-down man, although he had made such tremendous efforts to -show nothing. - -"Why, Maureen, my blessing," said the Rector, "you have won Colonel -Herbert's heart. He's a right good, gentlemanly fellow, one of the best -in the county. Everyone has hitherto supposed that his heart was made -of iron, but you--you have changed all that." - -"Ho, it isn't me; it is his dear self," said the child, "and he hasn't -a heart of iron, my Colonel, but a soft heart, very gentle. I think I -love him next best to you and Dominic out of all the world. He has been -so good to me while you were away. But now let's be happy. Oh, hurrah! -This is a good world. Dear old Templemore! Come for a walk, Uncle -Pat.--Come along, too, Dom.--We must see the fruit garden and the place -where the periwinkles will soon be in full blossom. They are in bud -now, but soon they'll be in blossom. Oh, what wonderful, amazing things -have happened during this past year! God has given you back your life, -my darling." - -"Yes, Maureen," said the Rector, "and to see you, my little blessing, -looking as you do, is the crowning touch to my bliss." - -"I wish Kitty and Denis were here," said Maureen. - -"They are coming in a week's time," replied the Rector; "and in about -ten days from now their step-sisters will arrive." - -"Oh," said Maureen, "the girls that step-auntie was always talking -about?" - -"Yes, the same. They are pretty much about your age, Maureen--a little -older if anything. I have not seen them yet." - -"We must be very good to them," said Maureen. - -"Yes, acushla, yes. What a big family we'll be, with all you young -ones trotting about, and the Colonel and I--a pair of old fogies, -bedad!--watching you at your games." - -"Indeed, no; nothing of that sort," said Maureen. "You'll join in our -games, for you are quite young again, and my Colonel isn't old. I have -taught him to play hide-and-seek, and he loves it. There is nothing -like play to keep people young. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if -Pegeen joined in some fine morning. She is the only really old person -in the house. But now, Uncle, please tell me all about step-auntie's -girls." - -"I can't tell you anything, darling, for I have not seen them. Even -when, long ago--at least, it is five years ago now--when I asked their -poor mother to marry me, the girls were at school, and she never would -allow them to come home for the holidays. I disapproved, but now all -that is changed, for I am their guardian as well as their step-father." - -"I wonder if they'll be nice," said Maureen. "We ought to give them a -very pretty bedroom, Uncle Pat." - -"I thought their poor mother's room--it is the best in the house and -the best furnished; and you can make it look very charming for them by -the time they arrive, Maureen." - -"You may be certain sure of that," said Maureen, and she clasped her -little hands tightly and looked with her loving eyes full at Uncle Pat. - -The Colonel arrived the next day and took Maureen for a long ride on -Fly-away, and then Maureen insisted on his staying to dinner, which she -had herself prepared with the help of Pegeen, who of course worshipped -the "swate asthore." - -Afterwards Maureen sang several old Irish songs, and a boy and two men -listened and wondered. How gay and true and clear was that voice. The -Colonel could not help sighing as he got up to go back to his solitary -home. - -"If _only_ I had a child of my own," he thought, but he kept his -thoughts to himself. - -The weather was as fine this year as it had been last, and Denis and -Kitty arrived all in due course, perfectly wild with rapture and -enthusiasm. Then one day, quite unexpectedly, an outside car of the -very shabbiest make was seen trundling down the avenue. From the car -leaped a girl with flaxen hair and another girl with red hair, and -the girl with flaxen hair flew at Uncle Pat and flung her arms round -his neck and said, "Why, dad, dad, dear old dad! It is good to see -you. Let's have a good hug. I'm Daisy, you know--called Dysy when I'm -naughty--and this here is Henny-penny." - -The girl with red hair was not as demonstrative as the flaxen-haired -Daisy; her eyes had a cruel look in them, and her mouth was loose and -ugly. - -"I'm Henrietta Mostyn," she said. "I suppose you are my step-father." - -"Yes, my dear; welcome to Templemore." - -"What a rum old place," said Henrietta. - -"Oh, we all love it very much, dear," said the Rector; "and I hope -you'll both be good and happy while you are with us." - -"Who is that boy?" asked Henrietta. "Quite a nice boy. What's his name?" - -"I'm Dominic," replied Dominic O'Brien. - -"Oh, are you? Well, you can take me round presently, if you like. There -are lots of others, aren't there? Of course, I know that poor mumsie is -dead and gone----" - -"Oh, for goodness' sake, keep cheerful, Henny!" "That's what I'm trying -to do. Will someone pay the driver; I have no money." - -"I'll see to it," said Dominic, going into the hall. - -"Why, there is another boy!" cried Daisy. "What's your name, scamp?" - -"It's not Scamp," said Denis O'Brien, who, although he was much younger -than Dominic, had a good deal of Irish pride packed away in his eleven -years of life. "My name is Denis O'Brien." - -"Well, well, don't be huffy, kid. Whoever is that little sprite over -there? A mite of a thing--a sort of changeling!" - -Daisy's mocking finger pointed to pretty Kitty, who burst into floods -of terrified tears and rushed to Maureen for comfort. - -"Oh, come, Daisy, you must not speak of my youngest child in that -tone," said the Rector. "She is my sweet little Kitty, and the dearest -little pet." - -"And whoever is that rag of a girl?" - -"This is Maureen." - -"Well," said Daisy, "wasn't mother right? Don't you remember, -Henny-penny, how she used to write us pages about the detestable -Maureen, and here she is in the flesh, as stuck-up as you please, and -in all those fine feathers, too. I can give a shrewd guess as to whose -money paid for those!" - -There was a solemn silence in the great hall, then the Rector laid one -strong, firm hand on Daisy's shoulder and the other on Henrietta's. - -"My dears," he said, "you are strangers to us, but we wish, if -possible, to be good to you. It is our intention, if possible, to be -good, but you must not speak against any of my family, and in especial -you must not speak against Maureen. She is the joy of my life and my -greatest earthly comfort. Remember, girls, I am now in the position -of your step-father and your guardian and can do with you just what I -please.--Maureen, darling, take the girls up to their bedroom, and see -that they have every comfort.--We shall have tea in the hall in about -half an hour, and then the Colonel will come to take Maureen for her -customary ride." - -There was something very stern and solemn in the Rector's words, and -even Daisy was subdued for the moment. - -Maureen, who had not shed a tear or shown a scrap of apparent emotion, -now came forward and gravely without any smile said in her distinct, -sweet voice: "Shall I take you to your room?--Kitty, dear, go and have -a ride on daddy's shoulder." - -"He's my daddy as well as the sprite's!" cried out the irrepressible -Daisy. "That's one comfort. Well, I suppose we may as well go with -you, interloper." The last word she dropped as she did not wish her -step-father to hear her. - -Maureen had taken great pains with the late Mrs. O'Brien's room. She -had taken away the large double bed and had substituted two little -oak bedsteads, and the room was really quite charming, with its good -furniture, its flowers, and wide-open windows, which let in the -delicious air, that blew straight from the Atlantic, not two miles away. - -"How shivering--how bitter!" cried Daisy. "For goodness' sake, shut -that window; I'll catch my death--I know I shall. What a great empty -room! Nothing in it to speak of. The only decent person I have seen -since I entered the house is the boy they call Dominic. I am going -to have a try and flirt with him. It will get my hand in for proper -practice by-and-by." - -"You mustn't be unkind to me if you expect Dominic to like you," said -Maureen. - -"Oh, so that's the way the wind blows! Ho-ho! Well, little figure of -fun, and how do you enjoy your stolen goods?" - -"I don't understand you; I haven't a notion what you mean," said poor -little Maureen. - -"Don't begin by teasing her," suddenly exclaimed Henrietta; "we'll have -plenty of opportunity later on. You know we made our plans, but you are -such an air-bubble. '_Dysy--Dysy--give me your answer, do!_'" - -"I'll scratch your cheeks if you talk to me like that," exclaimed -Daisy. "I'm not going to be afraid of anybody, and I say it plainly -and frankly. Dad's an old frump, but it's wisest to make up to him. -What did mother see in him to marry him? As to this creature, she is -unspeakable, but of course stolen goods! Well, miss, what are you -staring at us for?" - -"I thought perhaps I might help you," said Maureen, in her sweet voice, -which, in spite of every effort, had a sort of tremble in it. "I don't -know that I can; but I thought I could. I'd like to, awfully!" - -"Oh, humbug, shut up!" said Henny-penny. - -"You'd like me to leave you perhaps," said Maureen. "There's hot water -there, and when the bell rings for tea, or rather when the gong sounds, -I can come up and fetch you. We thought you'd like this room. Pegeen -and I took great pains preparing it for you. It is quite the best -bedroom in the house, and the largest. Uncle Pat ought to have it by -right, but he wouldn't take it from you, for step-auntie always slept -in it, and we thought you'd be sure to like her room, seeing that you -are her children. The bed has been moved and two small beds put in. I -think myself it is a beautiful room," continued Maureen. - -She turned as she spoke in her graceful way and walked towards the -door, but before she could reach it both girls had sprung upon her. - -"How old are you?" - -"I shall be fifteen in a few months. Please don't clutch my shoulders -so tightly." - -"Well, you're very little younger than we are. We're twins and we're -fifteen. We won't be sixteen till Christmas, so there isn't a year -between us. We can have a fair fight." - -"Now, look here, little monster," said Henny-penny. "Don't you think -you are going to have your way in _this_ house, which belonged to _our_ -mother." - -"Please," said Maureen, "it belongs to Uncle Pat. It is the Rectory, -you know." - -"Take that," said Daisy, and she gave her a resounding smack upon her -cheek. - -"Now, look here, Miss Interloper," said Henny.--"Daisy, for goodness' -sake, don't strike the creature--we mean to be top dogs at Templemore. -We mean to get round dad and Dominic and a man you call Colonel, and -you'll have no chance whatsoever; and if you think for an instant that -we are going to sleep in this room where mumsie slept until the day -she was killed, you're finely mistaken, that's all. You want to kill -us; that's about the truth." - -"Oh, you don't understand," said poor Maureen. - -"If I'm forced to sleep in this room, I shall shriek and yell all night -long," said Daisy. - -"No, you won't, Daisy, for of course you won't sleep in the room. Why, -we should have mumsie walking over us all night long--a pretty trick -for you to play on us, Miss Humbug; but you'll soon know your own -place. We haven't come to this home of desolation for nothing." - -"Where's father?" cried Daisy. "Oh, there he is walking with Dominic. -Dad, I say, dad, come upstairs at once! Dominic may come, too, if he -likes. The little scamp has been playing tricks on us. Come quick, -father, come quick, and save your poor children." - -The amazed Rector, accompanied by Dominic, entered the room. The first -thing Dominic saw was a great red mark on Maureen's cheek. He went up -to her and slipped his hand through her arm. - -"Who has been hurting you, acushla?" he said, speaking in that loving -Irish voice, which few girls can withstand. - -"I tell you what," said Henny.--"Daisy, for Heaven's sake, keep -quiet.--That creature put us into this room because she wanted to -frighten us out of the world. Why, this was mumsie's room. Please, -father, order another room to be got ready for us." - -"Certainly, my dears. I shall be only too pleased to take possession of -this room myself, and you and your sister can sleep in my room. It is -a storey higher up, but the beds can be moved.--Maureen, can you give -orders, dear? Why, whatever has happened to your cheek, darling?" - -"I suppose I'm a bit flushed," said Maureen. - -"Nothing of the sort. Out with the truth," said Daisy. "I smacked her -for her cruelty." - -"You did _that_!" said the Rector of Templemore.--"Maureen, my darling, -go to your room and lie down. Dominic, take her there, and take every -possible care of her.--Now, girls," continued the Rector, when Dominic -and Maureen had gone away together, "if you attempt to persecute my -little niece or make her life at all miserable I put down my foot, -and I think, all things considered, that you will find it a very firm -one. Our wish was to make you happy at Templemore, but if you choose -to be miserable over nothing at all, and to go on in the exceedingly -unpleasant way you have done since you entered the house, why, there is -an old lady I know who will take charge of you. I won't tell you her -name. I won't tell you anything about her except that she is a relation -of my own; and I rather fancy, Henrietta and Daisy, that if you go and -live with her, you will sleep where _she_ chooses, you will eat what -_she_ puts before you, you will obey her to the letter, and you will -not have an easy time. You need not unpack, now, girls. You have shown -since you came to this house want of heart and want of feeling, and I -may as well tell you that I am bitterly ashamed of you." - -Whereupon the Rector left the beautiful bedroom, and the girls stood -and stared at each other. - -"We're in prison," said Daisy, and she began to sob. - -"Nothing of the sort, if we play our cards properly," returned her -sister. "Now I'm going to tidy up a bit, and you'd best do the same, -and, for goodness, gracious' sake, don't say a word against that little -brat in the company of her elders. We can tease her fine in private, -and she has got some grit in her, I must say, for she didn't tell when -you gave her that awful blow, Daisy. You did yourself no good by that. -I wouldn't sleep in this room; I'm with you there. Poor mumsie's room; -but I think we'll have to change our tactics a little, otherwise we'll -be packed off to that truly awful woman father has described to us. -He's not at all a nice man, but Dominic is worth cultivating, and then -there's the Colonel. I own I should like to get into his good graces, -so do brush out my hair and let me look pretty, and I'll do the same -for you. Afterwards we can find our way to the hall hand in hand, two -forlorn, sad little orphans--enough to touch the heart of anyone." - -Daisy submitted, as she always did, to the stronger nature, and the -girls entered the hall a quarter of an hour later in their somewhat -tawdry travelling dresses, much the worse for wear--one with her -head of fiery red hair and her eyes of fiery blue, the other a sort -of shadow of her sister with no colour in the hair, nor in the small -pinched face. - -The Colonel was seated as usual in the hall, and the Rector was -speaking to him on all kinds of subjects, learned subjects and subjects -of the day. - -Dominic, Denis, and Kitty had placed themselves as far as possible -from the Mostyns. Presently there was a little rush heard on -the richly-carpeted stairs, and a girl, a beautiful girl, in a -Lincoln-green habit, with her little peaked cap of velvet to match -with its heron's feather, dashed into the middle of the group. As she -advanced, she sang, and the song she sang was "When Malachi Wore His -Collar of Gold," and she flew to the Colonel and put her soft arms -round his neck and gave him one very light kiss on his forehead. - -"Why, Maureen, my blessing!" exclaimed Colonel Herbert. - -"You'd best pour out tea now, Maureen," said her uncle, "or you and the -Colonel will be late for your ride." - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -STEP-DAUGHTERS. - - -"You look tired, Maureen," said Henrietta, coming forward at that -moment, "and as _I'm_ father's child, perhaps he would like me to pour -out tea." - -Maureen turned very red, but did not speak a word; she sat down quietly -on a seat near Colonel Herbert. He looked at the child with unspeakable -love and anxiety in his eyes. By-and-by, to Maureen's great rejoicing, -she and the Colonel went off for their ride together. - -The moment the Rector found himself alone with his step-daughters, for -the two boys and Kitty had fled from the hall, Henrietta went and knelt -down by the elderly man's side. - -"Are you vexed with me, father dear?" - -"I am, Henrietta, decidedly vexed. You have no right to take Maureen's -place in this house. I did not wish to make a fuss before Colonel -Herbert, but clearly understand that Maureen has the management of -things at Templemore." - -"But I am your child, daddy, and older, too," said Henrietta. - -"And so am I, daddy, dad. We are twins, of course, so we are the same -age," said Daisy, "and we are older than Maureen by a few months." - -"Yes, I know all that," said the Rector. - -"Well, you see, it's like this," proceeded Henrietta. "It was quite -bad enough to be robbed. Darling father--for you do look a dear -old duck--we are not blaming you one little bit, you couldn't help -yourself; but mumsie, had she lived, meant all her money to go to Daisy -and me. Well, she died, poor dear, so there was an end to that. She was -a bit mad when she made that will, but we must put up with it. It's -there, and the lawyers say it cannot be changed; only really and truly, -father dear, Daisy and I, as your step-daughters, and as mumsie's own -children, ought to be heads of everything in this house. We want to -order the servants. Maureen can do rough work, of course, if we like to -give it to her, but she must do it under our superintendence; don't you -think so, Daisy?" - -"Certain sure, Henny-penny." - -"So you see, father dear," continued Henrietta, fixing the Rector with -her fierce bright eyes, "it's better to begin at once. That's why I -spoke as I did just now, and why I took possession of the tea-urn." - -"And gave me," said the Rector, "quite the most nauseous cup of tea I -ever had at Templemore." - -"Oh, you are prejudiced, daddy dear," said Daisy. "It was delicious -tea. Henny is famed for her tea; but never mind, you shall teach Henny, -and she shall give it to you just as you like--only the main point is -this: Is not Maureen to understand clearly and at once, that she is -under us in this establishment?" - -"No," said the Rector, "it cannot be." - -"But it is very queer of you, daddy"--sob-sob came from Daisy's lips. -"Here are we, your own darling wife's only children, treated anyhow, -and that little scamp put on top of us. I don't think we can stand it." - -"I don't think you can, Daisy. I think I must give immediate directions -to have you and your sister sent to my cousin. She'll manage you if I -can't. And now, my dears, although I'm better, I'm not the strongest of -the strong, so I must ask you both kindly to leave me." - -"But we won't go to that awful cousin of yours. We ought to be heads of -this establishment; it's very cruel, that's what I call it. Our money -gone, and our mother gone, and we thought nothing of at all. If you -were anything of a gentleman, father, you wouldn't have taken us from -that nice school that mumsie chose for us, where we had lots and lots -of friends." - -"My dears," said the Rector, and he laid his hand as gently as he -could on Henrietta's shoulder and looked into those fierce eyes so -like his poor wife's, and noticed the cloud of red-gold hair; and -then he glanced from her to Daisy, who was winking at her sister, and -altogether putting on a most disagreeable appearance. "My dears," he -said, "God help me--I'm a weak man. I have suffered sorely, and your -mother's money is no pleasure to me." - -"Oh, don't talk tommy-rot," said Daisy. "If it is no pleasure to you, -you can give it back to us." - -"There is such a thing as the law of the land, girls, and by that law, -the money your mother left behind her can only be spent according to -the one will she made. I wish for many reasons it could have been -otherwise. I will tell you one thing, my dears: I did not even know of -the existence of the will until the very day your poor mother leapt -from the dog-cart and broke her neck." - -"She must have looked very queer with her neck broken," said Daisy. -"Did you see her, father? Was it twisted round or doubled over, or -what?" - -"Daisy, I refuse to answer any more of your heartless questions. Go -away now and leave me in peace. I am feeling terribly tired and upset. -But clearly understand, both of you girls, that for the present you are -only _guests_ in this establishment, and that Maureen keeps her old -place. Now, go!" - -"Well, he is a frump," said Daisy to her sister. She uttered these -words after she had left the hall. "If you had gone out, Daisy, and -left him to me, I would have managed him fine. I'm the sort of girl -that can come round any man. But you--you are just contemptible. I'll -get the upper hand of Miss Maureen yet, but I'll manage it in my own -way. You can back me, of course, if you like." - -"You may be sure I'll do that, Henny! I couldn't live but for you, but -I do get so passionately angry when I think of the way we have been -treated. Just to think of that little whipper-snapper having a horse of -her own and a Colonel to ride with her, and she put before everyone and -getting as much money as we shall have. Oh, I call it detestable!" - -"Well, you heard what father said--that the will can't be changed," -said Henrietta. "Let's go now and visit the kitchens and scold the -servants. They at least shall imagine we are mistresses." - -"Oh, what larks!" said Daisy. "Come along, Henny; you are just -splendid." - -There were a good many servants seated at tea in the old kitchen, -for Mr. O'Brien, owing to his added wealth, had increased his staff. -They were all Irish Mollies, Bridgets, and Norahs, in addition to -which there was the old butler Burke, who sat at one end of the long -table, while Pegeen occupied the place of honour at the other. This -goodly group of men and maids--for several of the gardeners had come -in without permission for their meals--were talking in the soft, -low-pitched voice of the Irish. They were drinking tea, too, according -to the invariable fashion, out of saucers, their elbows resting on the -table-cloth, which was by no means too clean. - -"Lawk-a-massy," one of the men was saying to Norah, the -under-housemaid, "why, what Mr. Burke has been a-telling to me fair -takes my breath entirely. It seems to grip me like. That young minx -taking our Miss Maureen's place and slopping out the tea, half into -the saucer and half into the cup; and Miss Maureen, the angel that she -is, not a word out of her, but just setting down near the Colonel, -blessed man, and taking her tea, as though it was nice, although the -left cheek of the poor lamb was all swelled up; wasn't it, Burke?" - -"It was that so," replied Burke, "and fiery red for that matter." - -"And herself such a pale little colleen," said Norah. "My word, one of -'em must have riz a hand at her." - -All this time Pegeen had not uttered a word, but her sunken black eyes -looked very black indeed, and her breath came in short, quick puffs -from her almost toothless mouth. - -It was upon this scene that the Misses Mostyn burst in. - -"Hullo, hullo, you good people!" said Daisy. - -"Hold your tongue, Daisy, and let me speak," interrupted Henrietta. - -But here Pegeen rose to her feet, the rest immediately following her -example. - -"I'll thank ye, madames, to walk out of my kitchen. Ye are not welcome -here, and that's flat." - -"Oh, dear, dear, what horrid people you all are!" exclaimed Daisy. "We -poor orphan girls can't go anywhere to get a bit of welcome." - -"To be sure now," said Pegeen, "and there is much of the grief of the -orphan about yez. I niver did see it, niver, displayed so touchin' -like. Ye are your mother over again, and she war a bad 'un if ever -there was a bad 'un. What call had ye, I'd like to know, to go and push -yourself into Miss Maureen's place--her little darling self that is the -angel of the world? Yes, yez did that; and, what's more, one or other -of ye, I can't say which, sthruck her across the left cheek. What call -had ye to go on like that, and then come prying in on us? Get out of -the way, that's what I say--quick!" - -"Please," said Henrietta, who thought it best to be as polite as she -knew how, for all the servants were glaring at her as though they would -tear her in pieces. "Please let me speak and then I'll go, but I'll -take good care to tell the master--my father--what a disgraceful scene -I have lighted on. I don't believe for one moment those men have any -right to be in the kitchen, and--why, I do declare that is peach jam -you are eating, and new-laid eggs. I'm the head of the house in future, -so you'd better accept the fact. But now, what I wish to know is this: -When is Miss Daisy's and my room to be changed?" - -"Sakes alive--ye have got a fine bedroom! Haven't ye tuk to it?" - -"We were taken to a room where my mother slept until she died. Do you -think we would put up with a haunted room?" - -"I did hear the banshee two nights ago," said Norah. "She was crying at -one of the windows. It was a sure sign of another death." - -"And you expect us to sleep there," said Henrietta. "That's likely. -However, the matter is settled, and whoever is the housemaid--I'm sure -I don't know how many there are--dozens, I should say--but anyway the -housemaids, as soon as they have finished their peach jam and new-laid -eggs, are to go upstairs and put our beds into father's room, and -father will sleep in the haunted room. He has given orders to that -effect, and if you don't believe me, impertinent Irish savages, you'd -better go and ask him." - -"My word, I will that," said Norah. - -"And so will I," said Bridget. - -"And so will I," cried Molly. "It will be a nice change for the -masther, for his room is mighty poor and what you might call rickety, -whilst 'herself' had what was the best room in the house. I'm right -glad ye heard the banshee, Norah, for now the poor dear masther will -have a dacent room to sleep in; and as like as not, for that matter, -the banshee'll cry at the window of the room ye'll be sleeping in, -misses. It's _ye_ she's after--the same as your poor mother. Oh, my -word, we must bustle to." - -"Finish your tay," said Pegeen; "and, young ladies--what calls -theirselves such--_lave the kitchen_!" - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -AT TEMPLEMORE. - - -The girls did not find themselves thoroughly comfortable at Templemore. -The room upstairs was small. It faced north, and the furniture was -shabby. In vain they demanded better furniture. No notice was taken of -their request. What the Rector had endured for years without uttering a -word they must endure now by their own choice and desire. The Rector's -illness had been greatly brought on by his unsuitable bedroom. - -Maureen poured out tea, Maureen coaxed the servants into a good humour, -Maureen picked flowers, and with the help of Pegeen arranged the _menu_ -for the kitchen and also for the hall, where they generally partook of -refreshments in the hot weather. Maureen was growing very tall and very -slim, and the ugly red glow had faded from her cheek. Nevertheless, she -had her trials. Henrietta and Daisy saw that as they could not work -openly, they must work by guile. She might still be the pretended head -of the establishment, but they could make her unhappy. They managed -this by many clever dodges. - -On a certain night when the Mostyns had been at Templemore for a few -days, the Colonel came to dine. There was an excellent meal planned -by Maureen, and the family and visitor alike were waited on by old -Burke, and a smart-looking girl, who called herself by the uncommon -name of Vivian. She was the head-parlourmaid, and being truly Irish by -birth, was accepted by Burke as worth training. When the dinner had -come to an end, the Mostyns, who were wearing bright pale blue gauzy -frocks (they had refused to put on any sort of mourning for their -mother), and Maureen, who was in simple white, with a green bow, the -true Irish green, in her soft brown hair, were standing together in the -drawing-room. - -The Mostyns had not made any way whatever with the Colonel, and, -although the Rector was kind to them, it was a distant sort of kindness -with no love in it. He had begged them on their arrival to wear black -for their mother, but as they positively refused to do anything of the -sort, he did not press the point. - -Denis and Kitty had both retired to bed; Dominic, the one person -whom the girls could endure in the family, was nowhere to be seen; -but Maureen was there, looking exquisite and fair, with her pale, -creamy complexion, her dark brows and soft brown eyes to match her -hair--Maureen, the interloper. - -"Do you know," said Henrietta suddenly, "that you are a robber?" - -"Please, Henrietta, don't talk like that," said Maureen. - -"Let her alone," cried Daisy; "if we don't she'll begin to cry, and we -have our fun prepared upstairs to-night." - -"Whisper, whisper." The other girl nodded, and a pleased expression -came over her face. - -"I say, what larks!" she exclaimed. Then she said suddenly: "What a -glorious piano. When did mumsie buy it?" - -"Your mother didn't buy it," said Maureen. "It was Colonel Herbert who -bought it and gave it to me." - -"That's another of your lies," said Daisy. "All right; let's see what -it sounds like." - -She could hardly play a note of music, but she could pound wrong notes -and crashing chords to any extent. Henrietta stood by her, smiling. - -"How," said Henrietta, "you shall play my accompaniments. I have a -great voice." - -She set to work with great fervour, Daisy improvising the -accompaniment. Her song was one just then very much in vogue: "Cheer -Up; Never Say Die!" The partly cracked, untrue voice, the hopeless -accompaniment, brought the gentlemen, who were all musical, out of the -dining-room. - -"Good heavens!" said Colonel Herbert. "Maureen's piano will be broken -if that sort of thing goes on." - -They entered the room long before they were expected. The Colonel -said with extreme politeness to the two Mostyns: "Thank you for your -performance. Now may we have the pleasure of a song from Maureen." - -Maureen immediately sat down and sang the songs "dear Colonel" loved -best. Her voice was gaining in power and richness every day. Dominic -stood by and turned the pages for her, but suddenly a burst of giggling -in a distant part of the room caused him to leave his place. He went -up to the two girls, who were choking and stuffing their handkerchiefs -into their mouths. - -"If you wish to laugh, will you go outside," he said. "We want to -listen to Maureen." - -"You come along with us, Dommy, boy," said Daisy. - -"Thanks; but I would not lose the pleasure of Maureen's singing for the -world." - -"You call _that_ singing?" said Henrietta. "I call it the squealing of -a cat." - -"Thanks. You will perhaps allow me to retain my opinion. Don't laugh -again when something beautiful is being done." - -Maureen was singing "Those Evening Bells" when he went back to her. Her -eyes were wonderfully soft and bright, and the Colonel patted her on -the shoulder and kissed her on the cheek when he went away. - -"We'll have a long ride to-morrow, girleen," he said. "You and I and -Fergus and Fly-away. I'll call for you early, for I want to go a good -long way; and, oh, by the way, Rector, may Maureen dine with me at -Rathclaren to-morrow night? I can send the horse back by the groom, and -will bring the child back in my motor-car in time for bed." - -"Certainly. You would like that, Maureen," said the Rector. - -"Oh, yes," said the little girl. "I should love it." - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE GRAND BLÜTHNER. - - -There was a strange feeling over the old house, a feeling which had -never pervaded it even in the unhappy days of the late Mrs. O'Brien. To -all appearance, it was Maureen who was the cause of the misery. It was -not that she ever complained, but that she looked fagged and lifeless. -She locked her piano, the beautiful Blüthner. She could not stand -Daisy's crashing chords and Henrietta's false notes. The two Mostyn -girls went one day, when Maureen was out, on purpose to open this -instrument in order to indulge in long squeals on it, and in short to -injure it as much as possible. They hated the piano because it belonged -to Maureen. They could not accuse her of robbery in connection with it, -for Colonel Herbert had given it to her. - -Mr. O'Brien was busy over his parochial work, and the girls thought -they would have a fine time. They had dragged Denis and little Kitty -into the room, and, wild with mischievous excitement, they proposed a -dance. - -"I'll play the music," said Daisy. "I'm the musical one; and -Henny-penny, you can hop round with Denis. He's just about better -than nobody, and that's about all I can say for him. Wherever is -Dominic, I wonder? I say, Kitty--oh, don't look so frightened, -you little goose!--where is your eldest brother? Where's the one -respectable member of the family?" "Dominic--has gone--away--with -Colonel Herbert--and Maureen," faltered Kitty. "Colonel Herbert brought -his motor car--and the three went away together. I--I don't want--to -_dance_, please--'sides, I couldn't, as the pianner is locked." - -"Locked, you little brat, you little imp! What on earth do you mean?" - -"Please, I'm going out," said Kitty. - -"You don't go out until you tell us the truth." "'Pon my word, she's -right." - -Henrietta struggled with all her might to open the instrument; but the -lock was good--in fact, a double one--and the great piano stood in its -solitary splendour completely shut away from mischievous fingers. - -"Well, this is more than I _can_ stand," said Henrietta. "Look -here, Denis, you'll be a man some day, and a right handsome one, -too--fetching, you know." - -"Whatever's fetching?" asked Denis. - -"Oh, the sort of boy that lures the birds from the hedges, with those -dark grey eyes of yours and the curly black lashes. Oh, I say, you -_are_ a wonder. You'll catch the girls by handfuls!" - -"Don't know, and don't care!" said Denis. "I hate girls--that is, -except Maureen and Kitty!" - -"Well, I never! You are a nice sort of lad," said Daisy. "I've thought -of a plan, though. You don't know where she has put the key?" - -"No, I don't," said the boy sturdily; "and if I did I wouldn't tell." - -"Well, get away as fast as you can, with that little brat of a sister -of yours." - -The two children only too eagerly left the room. - -"Henny," said Daisy, the minute they were alone, "are you going to -stand this sort of thing?" - -"I don't see how we are going to do anything else. It is most -detestable," said Henrietta. "But if the piano is locked, we can't do -anything with it, can we?" - -"I have my thoughts, and they are very fine ones," said Daisy. "Will -you listen to me, Henrietta?" - -"Oh, I'm sick of everything," said Henrietta, and she put her arms down -on the lovely instrument and began to cry loudly and bitterly. - -"Look here, Henny, do shut up. Let's dance a jig on the top of the -piano. We've got our outdoor shoes on and they are covered with mud. -That little wretch is so particular about the top of her piano--always -dusting it and polishing it; and then, I say, can't we go to her room -and search for the key?" - -Henny was not one long to endure hopeless grief. The next moment she -had jumped on the top of the piano, and, encircling Daisy in her arms, -proceeded to do the one thing she could do fairly decently--that was -the steps of a Scotch reel. She whistled the tune with her full rosy -lips, and the two girls danced faster and faster until, suddenly going -too near the narrow part of the instrument, they both fell over with a -resounding crash. - -Just at that moment Burke solemnly opened the drawing-room door and -announced the Honourable Mrs. Leach and Miss Leach. How it so happened -that this Mrs. Leach was a friend in a sort of way of the second Mrs. -O'Brien. She therefore thought it her duty to call on the poor lady's -daughters, although her own daughter Kathleen by no means approved of -the idea. - -The sight that met their eyes was decidedly startling: Two girls -prone on the floor, and the top of the piano hopelessly injured by -clumsy boots and covered from end to end with mud; but Daisy, quick as -lightning, saved the situation. Henrietta felt slightly stunned, but -Daisy always kept her composure. - -"We're _so_ glad to see you, Mrs. Leach," she said. "Darling mumsie -wrote so often about you, and said you were quite _chee_arming. We are -glad to see you--we poor lone orphans. And what a pretty daughter you -have got, Mrs. Leach. What's her name--Sally or Patty, or what?" - -"My name is Kathleen," said that young lady, in a very stiff voice. - -"I hope you are not hurt, Miss Mostyn," said Mrs. Leach, going up to -Henrietta. "What an awful mess that lovely piano is in! Is it possible -that you were dancing on the top? How terribly vexed little Maureen -will be!" - -"Well, she locked it, spiteful cat," said Henrietta, "so we thought we -would pay her out. We are two lone orphans. You'll stay and have tea -with us, won't you, Mrs. Leach; mumsie-pumsie's friend--you will, won't -you now? I'll ring and tell Burke to get tea at once." - -"No, I'm greatly afraid I cannot stay," said Mrs. Leach. "I have -several other calls to make." - -"Then have you only come to tantalise us like?" said Daisy. "You come -in--mumsie's friend--you and your beauty of a daughter--why, I could -hug her this minute--and I _will_, too. I never can restrain myself -when I get a passionate fit on. Oh, please stay, do; we are such lone -orphans." - -Kathleen stood up. She was very tall and graceful. She was one of the -most beautiful girls in the neighbourhood. She was more than a head -taller than Daisy. - -"Mother, we must go," she said. "I always told you that what you have -done to-day was a mistake. No, we cannot possibly stay. Miss Mostyn, -forgive me, I never kiss strangers. May I ring to have our carriage -brought round?" - -But Burke at that moment was standing at the door. - -"Is it tay ye'll be requiring for the ladies?" he inquired of Henrietta. - -"No, thank you, Burke," said Mrs. Leach. "We cannot possibly stay to -tea. Good-bye, Miss Mostyn. Good-bye, Miss Daisy. For your mother's -sake"--she paused and seemed to swallow something in her throat--"for -her sake, I intended to be kind, but it is impossible; you are -hopeless. We only make friends with our own sort." - -"Give my love to Maureen and sweet little Kitty," said Kathleen. "Come, -mother darling, or we'll be late for Colonel Herbert's tea-party." - -They swept out of the dismantled drawing-room with all those airs of -women of the world which they truly possessed. As Burke was conducting -them to their carriage, he could not help saying: - -"Ah, thin, it's the truth I'm telling y'ladyship. The things that be -going on now are past bearing--past bearing; and I'm frightened out of -my very life for Miss Maureen and Miss Kitty." - -"Well, Burke, you must do your best to protect them," said Mrs. Leach. -"I quite feel with you; but you must know that it is impossible for us -to associate with such girls." - -"It's the truth ye are saying, ma'am. Why, their ma--goodness knows -she was bad enough--but she was a beauty compared to thim as she has -left ahint her. Oh, Heaven presarve us, they're listening. That's one -of their ways. It's my heart that's broke entirely. Good-bye, ma'am; -good-bye, Miss Kathleen. May the God above bless ye both." - -The old servant stood bareheaded on the steps of the ancient house and -the handsome carriage of the Leaches rolled down the avenue. Then Burke -stepped softly back on his way to the kitchen premises. There was no -sound audible anywhere, and he sincerely hoped that he was mistaken in -supposing that Miss Daisy had been listening to him. But he was not. -Daisy had listened--Daisy had overheard, and had now come back to her -sister. - -"We must do something," she said, and she ground her little uneven -teeth and spite flashed out of her small eyes. - -"What's to be done?" said Henrietta. "It is you who make the mischief, -Daisy. You have no reticence of any sort. I'm sure dear mums didn't -keep us so many years at that expensive school without our at least -learning that strange girls a great deal older than ourselves should -not be kissed. If you had gone away quietly and tidied your mop of -white hair, I would soon have got round Mrs. Leach; but I can do -nothing when you are by--nothing at all." - -"Oh, do let us stop talking about the old horror," said Daisy. "There's -one thing I'm determined on: Burke shall be turned away. I heard what -he said of us. Disgraceful, I call it!" - -"Well, father is the only one to turn him away," said Henrietta. "My -head aches. I got a very nasty fall." - -"Poor Henny-penny--poor old girl! We did damage the piano a good bit, -that's one comfort. How, look here, suppose we go up to Maureen's room -and have a right good search for the key. She must have hidden it -somewhere. There's something very tiresome about Maureen. Whatever we -do to her, whatever we say, she only looks sad and pale and doesn't -answer back. I detest that sort of little nonentity. _And_ the petting -she gets! And she living on poor mumsie's money! We must contrive to -punish her in some way she'll feel." - -"Well, anyhow," said Henrietta, "we will go and have a look for the -key." - -They soon found themselves in Maureen's room, which was a little -dressing-room off Uncle Pat's, and which, although by no means grand, -was exquisitely neat and tidy. - -"Let's make hay while the sun shines," said Daisy. "Pull the bed to -pieces and throw the bed-clothes on the floor. Now, then, let's look -in her drawers. Locked, I do declare! What a mean spite of a thing! -Henrietta, can't you contrive to kick over her water-jug and set -the water rolling on the floor? That, I rather fancy, will put Miss -Neatness out. Oh, dear--oh, dear! Why, whatever have we here?" - -The girls converted the neat room into a hopeless, sopping mess, but -now their eager eyes lighted on a little basket, which contained -screw-drivers and tools of different descriptions. With these in their -hands, they rushed downstairs again to the drawing-room, and began -to use every endeavour to burst open the Blüthner grand. Try as they -would, however, they could not succeed, for the double lock was too -much for them. All they did do was to break two or three screw-drivers -and injure the front of the piano. They even broke off little bits of -its lovely, highly-polished frame. They then returned the tools to -Maureen's room and went out hand-in-hand into the open air. There they -met Garry, the young groom, who was just bringing in Fly-away after his -daily exercise. - -They stopped immediately and entered into a very animated conversation, -which obtained but small response. - -"Couldn't we ride him, just for a bit?" said Daisy. "Turn about, you -know. Maureen doesn't want him to-day, and it would be such fun. Do let -us, Garry; do--do!" - -"I won't, and that's flat," said Garry. "The horse ain't mine--he's -Miss Maureen's. He has had his scamper, and now that he's dry and -brushed down and cooled off a bit I'm going to give him his oats. -The Colonel is that particular about him--white oats he allus gives -him. They are a sight dearer than the others. He's a beautiful baste -entirely. I wouldn't be tampering with him if I was you, misses; you -must remember, though 'tain't for me to sphake, that it was The O'Shee -kilt your mother and The O'Shee is nothing at all to Fly-away. Watch -the fire in his eye. It wants a practised rider to manage himself, that -it does. Ye'd best lave him alone. Ef you ride him, as sure as I'm -standing here, ye'll get your deaths as 'herself' did afore ye." - -"But please tell us," said Daisy, who could be very agreeable to -any man when she liked, "you don't only give him those white oats? -We don't want to ride him. We are not a bit that sort; but we are -interested. I suppose you don't mind telling us how you feed him, do -you, Garry?" - -"I knows my business, and as a rule I kapes it to meself," said Garry. - -"But you'll tell it to us, won't you? There surely is no harm in that, -Garry; and we are so fond of Maureen!" - -"Are ye, now? Well, I wouldn't have guessed it; but there's no saying -what's hid in the breast of a maid. I must be off now. I'm going to -lock himself in, and ye'd best be making for the hall, for the Rector -will be there, and as like as not will be wanting his tay--with Masther -Dominic and Miss Maureen away." - -"But do--do tell us what else you give him to eat," said Daisy. - -"To ate--bless ye--he has his males reglar. A hot mash o' nights." - -"Oh, a hot mash at night," said Henrietta. - -"Yus, and why not. Yee are afther no good; but I have the charge o' -Fly-away, and I don't say that the stable yard is the right place for -little maids. Ye'll forgive me, misses, but it ain't, really it ain't." - -The girls walked back slowly and thoughtfully to the house. They had -never ridden in their lives, and were not at all anxious to risk their -existence on the back of Fly-away. Rich as she was, Mrs. Mostyn, before -she became Mrs. O'Brien, had placed her daughters in a very common -school, and beyond saying from time to time that she meant to leave -them all her money and that they were dear, beautiful girls, she took -little or no interest in them. She paid their school fees and their -holiday fees, and did not bother about anything else. Her one great -object was to keep Mostyn's daughters away from Patrick O'Brien, for -she knew perfectly well that her second husband was a very different -sort of person from her first. But now the girls were established at -Templemore and were bent on mischief. They certainly could not break -open the piano, but they might be able to injure the horse. - -They conversed in low tones on that subject while they went arm in arm -to the house, where Burke, according to custom, was laying a sumptuous -tea in the hall. They felt certain they could accomplish it if they -took their time over the matter. They did not absolutely want to _kill_ -him, but Daisy's idea was to mix something in his hot mash which poor -unsuspecting Garry would give him without knowing anything about it. -They felt they must be very careful how they set to work. The horse -must be brought to the jaws of death, so that it would not be good for -anything for a long time afterwards; and that horrid Garry would be -dismissed. Oh, it was a jolly, jolly notion, and would pay off Miss -Prunes and Prisms, which was their private name for Maureen. - -In their father's library there would certainly be some medical books, -and they could look up poisons and--hurrah! of course they could buy -some at the chemist's, and then Daisy, who was as lithe and slight as -an eel, could creep through the windows and administer a sufficient -amount of the dose mixed in with the hot mash. - -This was their plan of plans. They were consequently in high spirits -when they joined their step-father at tea. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -POPSY-DAD. - - -The girls, Henrietta and Daisy, were quite intent on their scheme. -They were so intent that it kept them good in other respects. They -apologised humbly for the injury done to the grand Blüthner. They were -very penitent, and declared that it was just merely a lark, and hoped -darling, dearest dad would forgive them. - -The Reverend Mr. O'Brien could not help saying, after his first pause -of astonishment: "The person who has to forgive you is Maureen." - -"But why?" said Daisy, in an injured voice. "If you forgive your own -little girls, popsy-dad, surely, most surely, no one else ought to be -angry." - -"It is Maureen's piano," replied the Rector. "You both did a naughty, -mischievous--indeed, I may say a wicked thing. I am heartily ashamed of -you; but Maureen has got such a glorious spirit of perfect gentleness -and love that she _may_ overlook your sin." - -"I wish you wouldn't praise her quite so much," said Henrietta. - -"I don't over-praise," said the Rector. "I think of her as what she -is. She comes of a noble stock. There never was anyone like her dear -father, and her sweet young mother in her own way was equally blessed. -They have long passed away from this troublesome world, but they have -left their child behind them. You are more than fortunate girls to have -such a companion, and to have the possibility of making such a friend. -I don't say for a moment that you _will_ make Maureen your friend. The -matter rests with yourselves. She has the true spirit of forgiveness. -No, don't touch the piano. You like to see it in its present horrible -condition. I will sit in another room; for to me it is most repugnant. -Amuse yourselves as you wish, girls. I am sorry I cannot feel very -friendly to you at the present moment, but of course as I have said -already, the matter rests in the hands of Maureen." - -Certainly neither Henrietta nor Daisy felt comfortable at the Rector's -words, and when late that evening Dominic and Maureen returned from -Rathclaren, they both rushed out to her, Daisy whispering, "Now keep up -your courage, Henny." - -There was a standard lamp lighted in the drawing-room, and the ravages -done to the Blüthner were very perceptible. Maureen, who had a happy -colour in her cheeks and whose eyes were bright and soft, stared for -a moment at the mangled instrument with a sort of horror. Mrs. Leach, -who had joined the Colonel's tea-party, had not told the child what -had happened; and Kathleen, who loved Maureen, had walked about the -grounds with her letting her cling to her arm and throwing all the -interest of which she was capable into Maureen's account of her life. - -"You know, Maureen, you ought to live here," said Kathleen at last. - -But Maureen stared at her, and said with a voice of amazement: "What! -and leave Uncle Pat?" - -So Kathleen said no more. She felt afterwards that she could not. - -Now the child stood in speechless despair, looking at her lovely -instrument. - -"Why, Daisy--why, Henrietta--what has happened?" she asked, and there -was a choking sob in her voice. "Has one of the big farm sheep-dogs got -in and walked about on the piano? Oh, it is more than that, for someone -has been trying to break the lock! Oh, my darling piano--my soul of -music----" - -"Don't be affected, little brat!" said Daisy, who could flare up -just like a match. Whatever else she would have said to the child -was interrupted. Whether she would have accepted the theory of the -sheep-dog and pretended that a burglar had tried to break the piano -open can never be explained, for at that instant the Rector and Dominic -entered the room. - -Dominic had the steely blue eyes of his father--blue, with just a touch -of grey in them--eyes which suddenly turned black at any emotion. - -"Have you told Maureen the truth?" asked Mr. O'Brien. - -"We--we were going to," said Daisy, "but she flew out with that horrid -temper of hers, raving and roaring." - -"That is not the way with Maureen. Now tell her the truth before me. -Dominic, go and stand by your cousin." - -Thus forced, the girls were obliged to say what had occurred. They -described their rage when they found the piano locked, and how they had -determined to dance a Scotch reel on the top. They confessed that their -boots were very muddy, for they had been experimenting on the edge of a -boggy piece of ground that morning. - -"How," said the Rector, when the ignominious tale had come to an end, -"what do you wish to do, Maureen?" - -The colour came slowly back to Maureen's face until it burned in her -cheeks like two great spots. - -"Dominic," she said, without taking the slightest notice of the girls, -"we must not let such sheer ignorance trouble us. Go, like a darling to -Pegeen, and get me some cloths and some Adams' polish. I daresay I can -make the piano look fairly well until it is properly repolished, which -'dear Colonel' I know will get done for me." - -"Then we needn't sit up, I suppose," said Henrietta, giving a profound -yawn. - -"Oh, no," said Maureen. "Oh, I'm very, very sorry for you. You -must have felt so bad afterwards. It is dreadful to feel _very_ -bad--afterwards. Good-night!" - -There was a wonderful gracious sort of dignity about this little girl -which subdued the Mostyns for the time being; but they were more than -ever determined to punish her. - -"She feels nothing; she hasn't a scrap of heart," said Daisy. "Think of -her putting on those absurd airs. But _we'll_ touch her yet; I vow we -will!" - -"Yes, we will, we will--I declare we will!" exclaimed Henrietta. Soon -they were lying in their oak bedsteads side by side, and talking in low -whispers about how they could punish Maureen. - -The next day passed much as usual. The little, half-French, half-Irish -girl was very brave, and spent most of her time with Dominic. Her face -was sadly pale, and she had a look about her eyes which frightened the -boy because he could not understand it. "If she only _would_ fly out in -a rage," he thought, "I could bear it better." - -The Colonel came as usual to take his little favourite for a ride, and -during their ride the child made an unexpected request. - -"I don't want to make any complaint," she began, "but I want the dear, -darling Blüthner to go home to you for a time. We can hire a piano from -Kingsala, and the Blüthner will be safer with you. It got a little -injured yesterday, but I can't tell you how, dear Colonel; only if you -keep it I shall feel happy, and when I come to you I can sing and -play; and we can hire quite a good enough piano at Barry's on the Long -Quay at Kingsala." - -"There's something the matter with you, my blessing," said the Colonel. - -"No, no, nothing at all; only I want to have the Blüthner safe." - -Accordingly, a day or two later, a proper van was sent for the -Blüthner, which once more found its place in the Colonel's beautiful -drawing-room. Soon afterwards a man came and repaired the damage that -had been done, and Maureen seemed happy once more; but she little knew -what was awaiting her. A piano, the best which could be secured, an -upright Broadwood, was hired by Maureen herself from Barry's, and this -piano was never locked and the girls could pound on it as much as they -pleased. - -"Only let me know when you intend to play," said the Rector, "for true -music is the delight of my life, whereas such chords and crashes as you -produce, to say nothing of your false notes, Henrietta, have a very -unpleasant effect upon me." - -"Well, I am sure," said Henrietta, "I was always remarked at school for -my glorious voice. They said that if I wasn't so rich I ought to go in -for opera, and I am sure Daisy plays my accompaniments first rate." - -"I do so," said Daisy. "I have two big chords for the bass, and play -the tune with one or two fingers for the treble. I am told it has a -very pleasing effect." - -"Well, play your own way," said the Rector, "but don't ask me to admire -what is not music." - -All this time the hearts of the two girls were waxing very hot within -them. They had looked in vain for any medical book in their father's -library, and at last they determined to drive into Kingsala and ask the -chemist to give them some rat poison. - -"We must be careful of one thing," said Henrietta to her sister; "we do -not want to _kill_ the horse, we only want to make him very ill. Then -_she'll_ get into a pepper and we'll pretend to sympathise, and have -our lark all the time." - -Accordingly, on a beautiful bright morning, the Misses Mostyn implored -their step-father to lend them the phaeton in order to drive to -Kingsala. - -"What do you want to do there, my dears?" - -"Oh, lots of the sort of things that men don't take any interest in," -said Henrietta. "We want to furbish ourselves up a little. They say -Barry's shop isn't half bad." - -"Oh, ribbons and laces," said the Rector. "Well, I have no particular -use for my horse this morning, and Laurence, the groom, can drive you -in. Would you like to go too, Maureen, my pet? You could take Kitty -with you and choose her summer hat for her." - -"Oh, Uncle Pat, Kitty doesn't want a summer hat. I have just finished -the third of those pretty white muslin ones, and nothing could look -sweeter on her dear little head. No, I don't think I want to go; not -to-day at least. Thank you all the same, Uncle Pat." - -About an hour later Henrietta and Daisy were driving off in the phaeton -to Kingsala. The Rector with his increased means was thinking of buying -a smart little pony-trap for two ponies, which would exactly suit -Maureen and Kitty. He had heard that there was the very trap and also -the small ponies for sale in the auction mart in Cork, and determined -to start off the following day to try and secure them. Garry could -manage the ponies as well as the spirited Arab. The Rector would go -round to the stables and speak to him at once on the subject. Maureen's -birthday, when she would be fifteen, was drawing nigh, and he thought -that a new pony trap would be a nice present for her. - -He felt very happy as he paced about his neatly-kept grounds and tried -as far as possible to banish the thought of the Mostyn girls from his -mind. Of course he was bound to look after them, but he could not like -them. In fact, they tried him inexpressibly. - -Meanwhile, the said girls, in every scrap of finery they could collect, -drove to the town where their mother had so often been before them. -Mrs. O'Brien was very well known; the Misses Mostyn were not known at -all. The little town was all alive and eager, for a regatta was going -on that day, and the bay was full of beautiful yachts, and Patrick's -Quay was crowded with spectators. The chemist intended to shut up -shop and join the group, who watched the different races, as soon as -possible. He was a young man with carroty hair and sunken chin. His -name was Driscoll. - -Now Driscoll was by no means pleased at the arrival of fresh customers. -He didn't want either them or their money; he was all agog for the -beautiful races, and hated to have his time interfered with. The Misses -Mostyn were not attractive-looking girls. Daisy saw his impatience at -a glance and immediately proceeded to take advantage of it. Driscoll -pretended not to see her drift, but he took the measure of the young -lady. - -"What may ye be wanting?" he asked. "Don't ye know that this is a -holiday? And I'm just on the p'int of shutting up shop." - -"Oh, it won't take you a minute, Mr. Driscoll," said Daisy. "Father is -the Rector of Templemore, and couldn't come himself, so he sent us. He -wants us to buy some rat-poison." - -"Are ye the daughters of she who bruk her neck?" asked Driscoll. - -"We are--we are lone orphans on the mother's side," said Daisy; "but we -couldn't have a better father." - -"Ye are right there; a holier man never walked the road. What is it ye -said he was wanting?" - -"Rat poison. Please give it to us quickly. It isn't for us; it is for -the Rector." - -"Did he send in a prescription?" - -"No; whatever is that?" - -"I can't sell pisons without a prescription," said Driscoll. "I'd get -into a fine mess. If the Rector is troubled with rats--though I thought -I'd banished every one of them some months ago when 'herself' was -alive--he'd best write to me and I'll send it to him. No, ladies, I'm -sorry to be disobliging, but without a prescription no pison will ye -get." - -"Oh, dear, dear," said Henrietta; "father will be so disappointed. -Perhaps there are some other chemists in the town who won't be so -particular, Mr.--Mr. Driscoll." - -"Another chemist!" Driscoll threw up his hands. "Could Kingsala support -two, I'd like to ask ye? No; I'm the wan and the sole wan. I sold some -rat-poison to 'herself' a time back; but I suppose when the rats were -gone she was wise enough to destroy it. There now, I must say good-day -to ye, ladies, for I must shut up shop." - -The girls felt a good deal disappointed, but they were the sort of -young people who kept their feelings to themselves. They marched about -the town and peeped into Barry's shop and entered and bought yards upon -yards of pale blue ribbon, which they desired the man to put down to -the Reverend Patrick O'Brien, as they were his daughters. - -Presently they found themselves on Patrick's Quay, which was now packed -and crowded with eager spectators. The greatest yacht-race of the -season was about to come off. The _Sea Foam_, a magnificent yacht, -belonging to the Earl of Banbury, was to compete against the _Sea -Sprite_, a local yacht belonging to a Mr. Jagoe. - -Excitement had risen to its extreme height. All the population wanted -Jagoe's yacht to win, but the _Sea Foam_ out-did her with the utmost -ease, flying gracefully like a bird over the bosom of the waters, out -of the inner harbour into the outer and then back again, beating the -_Sea Sprite_ by a matter of at least ten minutes. The _Sea Sprite_ came -to her anchorage looking dull and dusty, with her sails torn, for the -wind had got up a good bit; but the _Sea Foam_ lay like a white swan, -calm and at rest on the waters. - -The great races were followed by little races, sailing boats and -row-boats and canoe races. The whole scene was most brilliant and -charming, and every girl in the place put on all the finery she -possessed, and all the men members of the yachting club were in white -flannels. Nobody spoke to Henrietta or to Daisy, though the chemist -approached them once and said, "Have ye got that there rat-pison?" but -Henrietta in the midst of her present surroundings, threw up her head -in extreme haughtiness and said: "Sir, I have not the pleasure of your -acquaintance." - -"_Driscoll_ by name, and _Cautious_ by nature," replied the chemist. -He then turned and said something to his companion, a pretty little -girl of his own class. They both looked at the Misses Mostyn, and both -laughed loudly, and Henrietta and Daisy thought it as well to start on -their homeward way. - -As they were approaching the Rectory, Daisy said in a low voice, which -she could assume at will and which certainly the groom could not hear, -"I have a notion in my head, Henny-penny!" - -"What is that, Daisy? To tell the truth, I'm about tired of your -notions. They never come to anything at all." - -"Well, but this one will--this one will," said Daisy, skipping up and -down in the phaeton as she spoke. "Don't you remember what that horrid -man Driscoll said--that he had sold rat-poison to mumsie some time -ago; so there must have been rats once at Templemore. He said also, of -course, that naturally mumsie pumsie would destroy the poison when the -rats were gone--but I'm by no means so sure of that. It was not a bit -the way of the careless old duck." - -"Well?" said Henrietta. - -"Well, what I'm thinking is this: that we have got to find what is left -of the rat-poison." - -"Oh," said Henrietta, "I haven't a notion where to look for it." She -yawned as she spoke. "These long drives do make one so sleepy," she -said. - -"You don't seem interested in anything, Henny. You are an old goose!" - -"Am I? Well, that's better than being a young gosling." - -"By the way," said Daisy, "I remember a lovely story. I know it is -true, for a girl at our dear old school told it to me. It happened to a -lady she knew, and she said it was as true as paint. It was this: There -was a very, very stout old body--oh, monstrous stout, but not really -ill, only hypochondriacal, and of course she was always and forever -sending for the doctor. He was a country doctor, but he had a sense of -humour in him. One day the old dame said to Doctor Macgregor, 'Doctor, -I'm about to visit London.' 'Are ye now that?' said he. You see, she -was an Irish body and she spoke the Irish brogue. 'And is it you that -will cross the sea, Miss Marmaduke?' 'Yes, to be sure,' she answered; -'and why not?' 'Well,' said the doctor, who was a bit of a wag, 'ye'll -be mighty sick, ye know.' 'I suppose I will,' she answered. 'Maybe I'll -die. But I've a great longing to see London town.' 'Ye won't die,' said -the doctor, 'if that is what ye are thinking of. But ye'll be mighty -uncomfortable with all that fat on yer body. You'll wish yourself safe -back in Dublin, that ye will.' 'Well, anyway, I'm going,' said the -stout lady, 'and I'll tell ye what it is, Doctor Macgregor, I don't -think ye make half enough of my illness and suffering.' 'Me not think -enough of them!' said he. 'Why, I'm thinking of them day and night.' -'Well, to be sure, are ye now,' said the lady. 'But there is one thing -I must say to you, doctor, you haven't a sympathetic manner.' 'It -doesn't do for a doctor to be sympathetic with his patients,' said the -doctor. 'Sympathy would kill them off like flies.' 'I am surprised -to hear ye say that,' said the stout lady; 'I should have thought it -would have done them a power of good. Well, anyway, ye must acknowledge -that I am ill.' 'Oh, very ill, ma'am; very ill entirely.' 'Then I think -as I am going to London,' said the stout lady, 'that you might write -a letter to the cleverest doctor there--an Irishman if ye can find -one--and give me the letter to take to him, and I'll be bound I'll get -out what is the matter with me.' 'Well, to be sure, I'll do that,' said -the doctor. 'I know the very man, too--Malony of Harley Street. When -are ye going to cross the briny?' 'To-morrow as ever is,' she replied. -'Well, I'll give ye a note to Malony which will clinch the business. Ye -mustn't be frightened at anything he says to ye, for ye must remember -ye have brought it on yourself.' - -"So the next day that wag of a fellow brought her a letter and told her -to call on the great Doctor Malony and put his letter carefully into -the hands of the great man, and to make up her mind for a really bad -verdict. The stout old lady was delighted, for she loved bad verdicts. -She got on board the boat and as the sea was rough, she suffered a good -deal from sickness; but the sicker she was the more she liked herself, -and the worse she was the tighter she clasped Doctor Macgregor's letter -in her hand. The sea certainly was rough, and most of the passengers -were sick, and the stewardess brought the fat old lady some brandy and -water to drink. The boat gave a great roll that moment and lo and -behold! in a minute the beautiful letter which was to seal the stout -lady's doom was sopped through and through with brandy and water. She -felt angry for a moment, but then it flashed through her mind that -she'd open it, for it was quite soft like pulp, and she would be able -to see for herself what Doctor Macgregor said about his patient. 'At -the least, it must be the beginning of cancer,' she murmured. 'Dear, -dear, dear! But anyhow, he'll tell the truth to a brother physician, -and it is as well for me to know.' - -"Well, Henny-penny, what do you think? They were getting towards the -harbour then, and it wasn't so rough, and she was able to read the -words inside the letter; and if ever a woman's eyes dilated and if ever -her heart throbbed, the fat old lady's did then, for Doctor Macgregor's -letter was brief and to the point: 'Dear Malony,' it ran, '_I am -sending you a fat goose. Pluck her well and send her back to me_!' You -may be quite sure, Henny-penny, that the fat old lady never went near -Malony; but she tore the letter in little bits and went to a quack, -who told her she had innumerable illnesses, all jumbled together, and -if there was any chance of her life, she must undergo at least four -operations; so she was as happy as the day was long. I declare you have -scarcely smiled, and I doing my level best to amuse you! Well, here we -are back at Templemore. Now then, jump out. I'm starving for tea if you -aren't." - -The girls went into the house. Maureen and Kitty were away. Neither -Dominic nor Denis were anywhere to be found, and the Rector was as -usual visiting his sick and sorry parishioners. - -The girls took their tea soberly, Henrietta hardly thinking at all and -feeling half asleep, but Daisy's brain being, as usual, very much on -the alert. When tea was a thing of the past and Burke had cleared away -all traces of it from the great hall, Daisy made her invariable remark: -"How many new-laid eggs and how much peach-jam did you eat in the -kitchen to-night, Burke?" - -Burke stared glumly at the young lady, and made no answer of any sort; -Daisy lost her temper a little and flew at Burke and said, "You _are_ a -nasty thief of an old man." - -"If you plaze, miss, ye'll have the goodness to lave me alone," Burke -replied. He then walked with a dignity which the girl herself would -never possess out of the hall and in the direction of the kitchens. - -"Pegeen," he said, "it's me heart that's bruk entirely." - -"Ah, wisha, honey," said Pegeen, "I wouldn't fret for the likes o' -they." - -"They have come to that pass that they accuse me--ME--of theft. Am I -likely to put up with that?" - -"Is it me 'ud do it?" said Pegeen; "I'd scratch their faces for 'em. -But you being a rale jintleman, Mr. Burke, honey, couldn't do that; but -I'll do it for ye, quick, as soon as possible." - -Meanwhile Henrietta strolled languidly into the drawing-room. She -opened the piano supplied by Barry and produced false chords and -crashes which would have sent Maureen or the Rector flying from the -house; but Daisy left her to her amusement and went softly, very softly -upstairs. She had long ago regretted her silly nonsense about the -banshee and the haunted room, for that north chamber where she and her -sister slept was the reverse of comfortable. The great spacious, lovely -bedroom, which had been her mother's, was now occupied by the Rector -of Templemore, and next to it was the little dressing-room belonging -to Maureen. Daisy's flaxen head stole cautiously round the door of the -big room. It was empty. So much the better. She now went on tiptoe, -trembling in her excitement, towards a little old medicine closet, -which was let into the wall. - -This medicine closet had not been opened or cleaned or touched since -the late Mrs. O'Brien's death, and it was the thought of that little -cabinet and of what it might possibly contain which had made Daisy's -heart so light and her voice so merry on her way home. Now she opened -it wide and began to explore. There were all sorts of dusty, grimy -bottles within, some half full, some empty, some bearing the words "Sal -Volatile," some bearing the words "Ipecacuanha," others "Epsom Salts," -others "Ginger," others "Peppermint." But in the back of the cupboard, -pushed out of sight, stood a small row of very dark blue bottles with -poison written on them in large letters. - -Daisy's heart almost choked her with delight. One contained laudanum, -and the directions were, "To be rubbed over the affected parts when -the pain is severe." Another contained belladonna, with the same -directions, and on each bottle was inscribed the words, "_Not to be -taken internally._ POISON." But Daisy's eyes lit up with bliss when she -came across a little pot marked _Rat-poison_, and with full directions -how to use it. - -"Spread some of the mixture on thin bread and butter and leave it near -the rat-hole. The contents of this pot are principally arsenic and -phosphorus. A dose sufficient to kill a dozen rats can be put on a very -small square of bread." - -Daisy put the rest of the bottles back into their places and danced -downstairs to Henny-penny. - -"Seek--find! Which hand?" she exclaimed. Her tiny eyes were blazing -with delight. - -Henrietta turned from her strumming on the piano to look at her. - -"What is the matter with you, Daisy? What are you so excited about?" - -"Come up to our bedroom at once," she said. "I have just grand news for -you. Come along as fast as ever you like." - -Henrietta began to feel really excited. She followed her sister -upstairs. They locked themselves into the ugly bedroom, and there Daisy -told the story of her great discovery. Henrietta listened in breathless -silence. - -"Where's the horse now?" she asked. - -"Out, of course, with that little brat Maureen. We'll do it to-night, -Henny; we'll do it to-night." - -Henrietta turned the rat-poison round and round. - -"I don't think," she said, after a pause, "he'll eat his mash if some -of this horrid stuff is put into it. You said the mumsie had other -poisons." - -"Oh, yes; laudanum and belladonna." - -"Well, I think if I were you, Daisy, I'd put this rat-poison back again -and secure the bottle with the laudanum. He would not taste that if it -was well mixed up in a big soft mash. You know, we mustn't kill him. I -declare positively against that. How much do you think we might venture -to put in?" - -"I don't know," said Daisy. "I wish I did." - -Then she clapped her hands excitedly. "I know, I know!" she exclaimed. -"I'll ask the village nurse, Miss Duncom." - -"Then you give yourself away," said Henny. "You quite frighten me, -Daisy." - -"It is because I don't want to frighten you that I ask the village -nurse. I shan't mention the horse's name. Of course not. Now I -know Miss Duncom is going to Mrs. Haggarty's cottage to dress the -old woman's leg, and I'll catch her as sure as sure. I'll keep the -laudanum bottle up in our room until we want it. I'll manage to creep -into Fly-away's loose box by means of the window. I know that that -detestable Garry always brings him his mash the last thing, and then -locks him in for the night. Now, don't keep me, Henny. I'll change -this rat-poison. The laudanum will be miles better." - -"Oh, do be careful," said her sister. - -Daisy presently dashed into their joint bedroom. She had put back the -rat-poison and had brought up the little dark blue bottle of laudanum. - -"Here, hide it under your bed," she exclaimed. - -"No; under yours," said Henrietta. - -"As you please," remarked Daisy. "Only it seems _I_ have all the -trouble while you have the fun. Think of her screeching and raving over -her dying horse, and I'll have done it all--all." - -"The horse is not to die," said Henrietta. - -"Well, _I_ suppose you do not mind his being made ill?" - -"No, I don't mind that. I don't mind giving her a fright." - -"Well, then, let me go off, for goodness' sake." - -Daisy dashed up the avenue and arrived at Mrs. Haggarty's. As she -expected, Nurse Duncom was there. She was a remarkably nice-looking -young woman, and all the people in the place adored her. The bandaging -of the leg had taken place, and she was just leaving the cottage, when -she saw Daisy. - -"Why, Miss Mostyn, is anything wrong? Is there anything I can do for -you?" - -"Oh, nothing really wrong," said Daisy; "only I don't want to frighten -father. He loves me so much. I suffer at night from such horrible pains -in my tummy-tum, and I found in dear mother's old medicine cupboard a -little bottle of laudanum. Do you think I might take a few drops?" - -"I don't think you ought to take any," said Nurse Duncom. "It is a very -dangerous medicine, and I should not dream of ordering it for you. You -could have peppermint or something harmless of that sort." - -"But, please, would three drops kill me?" - -"Certainly not. I dare say you could manage to take eight drops, -provided you gave them to yourself in a measure glass, without coming -to any harm; but I cannot possibly _order_ them for you." - -"If a--a cow was in awful pain, would you give it more than that?" - -"Undoubtedly, though I don't know anything about the treatment of -cows. What queer questions you are asking me, Miss Mostyn. The cow is -a much larger animal and can stand a much bigger dose, but really I -would not dream of ordering laudanum for any creature. I am sorry you -are suffering; probably it is indigestion. I will send you up a little -bottle of peppermint to-night, and you can take from ten to fifteen -drops in a little water. That is _quite_ safe. Good-bye now, Miss -Mostyn. I must hurry to old Burchell. Talk of pain! Ah, you little know -what it means. I must give him his dose of morphia, but nothing will -save his life. Still, he will be looking out for me, and the morphia -keeps the worst agonies under." - -Daisy danced back to her sister. - -"I have everything as pat as pat," she said. Little she cared for -Burchell's dying agonies. "I saw Duncom and she told me. I did not -give myself away in the least. We must give Fly-away from sixteen to -twenty drops of the laudanum. Luckily there is a little medicine glass -in mumsie's cupboard. I'll measure it into that. Then he'll get rather -bad, but he won't die. Hurrah! Hurrah! I _am_ a clever girl!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -FLY-AWAY. - - -Daisy, in her way, without being in the least intellectual, and without -having the smallest taste for the great and ennobling things of life, -was neverless clever. She had the artfulness of the crooked mind, -and she could carry out her designs with exactitude and promptness. -She pretended to be frightened, but neither she nor Henny knew what -fear was. Henny was, in some ways, the better character--that is, if -stupidity could be called good. She could hate with great vigour; she -never dreamt of love unless, indeed, she loved Daisy. She liked to -listen to Daisy's designs, which were always mischievous and wicked, -but she could not carry them out herself, although she would be -faithful to her sister to the last drop of her blood. - -Daisy was the only person who really belonged to her. She had therefore -a certain passion for this queer, crabbed nature. Therefore, she was -led by Daisy, who told her that she must pretend to be fond of father, -and she did pretend. She would have flirted with Dominic if he had -allowed her, but Dominic knew how to keep her at a distance. Try as -she might, try as she would, she could not bridge the gulf which stood -between her and him. That gulf also extended itself between Dominic -and Daisy. The fact was that he was an exceedingly sharp lad; he read -their characters aright and, as far as lay in his power, protected his -dear little cousin Maureen and his sweet baby sister Kitty from their -machinations. But even Dominic could not guess what was passing through -Daisy's mind on that special evening. He only noticed that she was in -particularly good spirits, that she and Henrietta laughed and joked and -whispered, and presently that they became suddenly quiet and sat one -at each side of the Rector on the old Chesterfield sofa. They petted -the Rector a good deal, calling him "father" and "dear father" and -"dearest dad" and "ownest duck," and the poor Rector endured their most -unwelcome embraces and their silly words until finally, in despair, he -asked Maureen to sing for him. - -Maureen sat down to the upright Broadwood and sang that most haunting -of all melodies: - - - "Rich and rare were the gems she wore - And a bright gold ring on her hand she bore; - But oh! her beauty was far beyond - Her sparkling gems and snow-white hand. - - "'Lady! dost thou not fear to stray, - So lone and lovely thro' this bleak way, - Are Erin's sons so good or so cold - As not to be tempted by woman or gold?' - - "'Sir Knight! I feel not the least alarm, - No son of Erin will offer me harm;-- - For tho' they love woman and golden store, - Sir Knight! they love honour and virtue more.' - - "On she went and her maiden smile - In safety carried her round the green isle; - And blest forever is she who relied - Upon Erin's honour and Erin's pride." - - -The girl's sweet, clear voice ceased. It died away in a soft wave of -most exquisite melody; her brown eyes were full of tears. She raised -them to Dominic's face; he was astonished at those rare tears. He had, -oh! so seldom, seen Maureen cry. - -The boy bent towards her with all the true chivalry of a true Irish -knight and gentleman. "What is it, mavourneen?" he whispered. - -"It is only that I am glad, oh! so glad, that my father was an Irish -gentleman and soldier," she replied, in a voice as low as his. - -By this time the conspirators, as they called themselves, had left the -room. - -"There, you saw for yourself," said Henny. "Did you ever come across -such affectation?" - -"Never," said Daisy; "never!" - -"I'm ready for anything now," said Henny. - -"Well," said Daisy. "I think everything is complete. Garry always locks -the stable door at ten o'clock. He sleeps exactly overhead. I do hate -that Garry." - -"Well, go on, Daisy. Don't mind about your hates now!" - -Daisy laughed spitefully. - -"It is at the present moment," she said, "exactly a quarter to ten. I -unlatched one of the windows in the stable to-day, and I secured a dark -lantern, and I want you to come out with me and help to push me through -the window. It is easily done, and I can fasten it, or push it to at -least, when I come out again. I'll crouch in a dark corner, and when -I know Garry has gone to bed I'll light the dark lantern and measure -the drops of laudanum. I have brought mumsie's measuring glass and the -bottle, and I stole the dark lantern to-day when I knew no one was -looking. Then when Fly-away is eating his hot mash, I'll pour in the -laudanum, _eighteen_ drops. I'll give him his quietus, don't you fear!" - -"Daisy, you are _not_ to kill him!" - -"Henny-penny, don't be such a fool. Of course I won't kill him; is -it likely? You leave everything to your clever little sister, and by -to-morrow morning we'll have that sweet 'Rich and rare' roaring and -squealing and kicking her heels in the drawing-room; and then we must -both pet her like anything and sympathise like anything. The horse will -recover, of course, but he'll be bad for a bit. That's all. Didn't Miss -Duncom tell me about the safe dose. I'm no fool. Only do come along!" - -The girls slipped down the back-stairs and out into the yard. They were -wearing dark cloaks, which completely covered their white dresses, -and Daisy had her lantern, medicine glass, and bottle of laudanum all -safely stowed away under her cloak. It was nearly ten o'clock. She -hadn't a minute to spare. Making a desperate effort with the aid of -Henny from behind, she pushed her way into the stable where the Arab -neighed a trifle uneasily. - -"I'm all right," she whispered to her sister. "The only thing is -that I have broken the medicine glass. Well, I can easily guess the -drops--sixteen. You get off to the house, Henny, or you'll be caught." - -Henny scampered away, her heart palpitating with uneasiness. She saw -a light under the drawing-room door as she sped by. The family had -evidently not yet gone to bed. The Rector was reading some lovely -poetry aloud, and Dominic and Maureen were listening. The Rector could -read poetry like no man in the county. He was now delighting his young -listeners with the "Prisoner of Chillon." His voice rose and swelled. -Dominic stood up in a sort of rapture. As the pathos grew Maureen hid -her little pale face against her uncle's sleeve. Whatever happened, she -could not cry a second time that evening. - -Meanwhile Daisy settled herself as comfortably as she could in the -darkest corner of the stable. There was Fly-away's loose box close to -her and a great bundle of hay for him to eat if he felt hungry. But he -was a horse of perfectly regulated habits, and he invariably waited for -his hot mash at ten o'clock. - -The stable clock struck the hour, solemnly in great strokes. Fly-away -pricked up his small ears. There came a sound outside--a man's step on -the cobble-stones, then Garry entered with the mash, hot and delicious. -He placed it just before the animal, stroked him affectionately on -his black head and silky, satin-like sides, and said: "Good-night to -ye, Fly-away. Slape well, my blessing." And then he left the stable, -locking the door behind him. - -Garry had intended to go into the kitchen for a bit, to have a chat -with Pegeen and Burke, with both of whom he was a prime favourite, but -something prompted him not to do it that night. He could not quite tell -why. He said to himself afterwards that "he was sort of onaisy in his -mind." He went up therefore at once to his bedroom and was preparing to -go to rest when he saw something very peculiar and uncanny. It was no -less than a streak of light, thin and like a shaft, which penetrated up -through the beams of the roof of the stable and entered his room. - -"May the Almighty presarve us," muttered the man. "Is it the pixies are -about or what?" - -He had not begun to undress. In a moment he had rushed down his -step-ladder, and, going to the stable-door, unlocked it. Yes, he was -in time--but only just in time. He saw a sight which he never forgot -as long as he lived. He saw a girl with flaxen hair lit up to a very -pale gold by means of the lantern. She was hastily uncorking a bottle -of laudanum. She was so absorbed in her task, so much afraid of being -interrupted and of not getting the deed done before Fly-away had -finished his mash that a reckless spirit came over her. - -She could not possibly wait to drop the laudanum into the mash, for the -horse was eating rapidly and hungrily. Laying her dark lantern on the -ground, she rushed into the loose box and dashed what she considered -would be sixteen drops but what was in reality much more like three -times that number, into the mash. Then with her dainty finger she -stirred it round and round. - -The horse, interrupted in his feed for the moment, was beginning to -resume it when, like a flash, Garry took the basin that contained -the hot mash, and put it outside on the cobble-stones, taking care, -however, not to spill its contents. He then secured the girl's hand, -the bottle of laudanum, which was really almost empty, and the dark -lantern, and saying: "You come along o' me this minute!" he dragged the -reluctant, terrified Daisy out of the place. - -"I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it!" she began to sob. "I was only -going to give him a few drops. I wouldn't kill him for the world, nor -would Henny. I wouldn't indeed! Oh, please, please, Garry, let me off; -he hasn't touched one drop." - -But Garry, though an Irishman, could on occasion be mute as though he -was turned into stone. This was one of those occasions. The Rector had -finished the "Prisoner of Chillon" and was repeating, as only he knew -how, - - - "Hame, hame, hame, O hame fain wad I be. - Oh, hame, hame, hame, to my ain countree!" - - -The two children were standing before him spell-bound with the ecstasy -which his recitations of poetry always gave them. Suddenly in the -brightly-lighted room there appeared Garry the groom, accompanied by a -shrunken-up sort of girl, who was too much afraid to speak or look at -any one. She would have rushed to the Rector for refuge, calling him -father, dear father, but Garry had clutched her by her shoulder. - -"You stay here," he said. "I ha' got a story to tell. We near lost the -horse; but for the Providence above, we'd ha' done it!" - -"What horse?" said Maureen, turning ghastly. - -"Your horse, miss--dear, darlin' Fly-away! I don't know what was over -me. I took him his mash as usual, and he began to gobble it up hungry -as ye plaze, and his coat never looked blacker or more like satin. -Well, to be sure, I was satisfied enough with him, and I locked the -stable-door as usual. But it was the Holy Vargin I think--I do believe -it was--for I meant to go as usual to have a bit of a gossip with -Pegeen and Burke, but somehow, your Riverence and Miss Maureen, I felt -mighty quare, and sort of _onaisy_ in me mind, so I went up to bed; and -my room is just over the horse's loose box, as ye know, sir. Well, -that room was made somewhat in a hurry when the Colonel gave the horse -to Miss Maureen, and the planks weren't to say rightly jined--that is, -on the floor, I mean, y'Riverence--and what should I see when about -to lay meself on me bed, but a sthrake of light, sharp and clear and -werry narrer coming up direct from below. Me heart it leeped into me -mouth, and I was down in no time at all, and I unlocked the door, and -the sight that met me----Oh, may I never see a worse! There was this -colleen pouring something out of a bottle into the mash, and the horse -he was just bending his head to go on with his supper, and she, with -her delicate fingers stirrin' the stuff round and round in the mash. -It war then I cotched hold of her. First I lifted the mash and put it -outside, and here's what she was giving to the horse, y'Riverence. -She can't go for to deny it, for she did it herself. She had a dark -lantern--one that belongs to the place, y'Riverence. Oh, my word, but I -have saved my beauty, and don't you fret, colleen asthore, for I'll get -a fresh mash in a clean dish and lay meself down alongside o' Fly-away -for the whole of this blessed night. Good evening to you, sir. Good -evening, colleen asthore. Masther Dominic, perhaps I might have a word -with yez." - -Dominic followed the honest fellow out of the room. - -"Garry," he said, "is it possible she could be so wicked?" - -"I tol't what I seen," said Garry. "I can't tel't no more. Oh, my word, -my word. I'm all trimbling-like!" - -"Garry, you are a right down splendid fellow. I'm going to give you a -hot tumbler of punch, for well you deserve it. The horse is safe now." - -"I left the bottle with the masther," continued Garry. "I wonder what -was in it, that I do." - -But the master and Maureen had read the words on the bottle: "Laudanum. -POISON. Not to be taken internally." - -Daisy stood sobbing before them. In her fright and Garry's sudden -appearance she had emptied the greater part of the bottle into the -mash. There was very little of it left. - -"Maureen, my darling, will you go to bed?" said her uncle. - -"Must I?" said Maureen. - -"I would rather, dearest. I will come to you presently to your room. -Your horse is safe, thanks to that good Garry." - -The child went away, but she had a queer new sort of look on her face, -a look she had never worn before, that no one had ever seen on the -sweet face of Maureen. As she passed Daisy, she stopped for a minute, -and forced the girl's small, terrified eyes to look at her. - -"Do you know," said Maureen, "that for the first time in all my life I -understand what _hatred_ is? I--HATE--YOU!" - -She left the room without another word. Daisy shivered. In the moment -of getting her desire--for had she not longed for Maureen to hate -her?--she found it like ashes, and worse than ashes, in her mouth. She -still stood in front of the Rector with her eyes down, her freckled, -colourless face very pale, only the freckles stood out and made a sort -of ghastly relief to the awful pallor. - -"Daisy, come here!" said the Rector. - -Daisy approached very timidly, one step at a time. She walked -delicately, as Agag of old. - -"Daisy, will you explain this to me?" - -"Will you listen to me, father?" - -"Yes, I am here. I am prepared to listen. But first, I have something -to say before you begin your story. I do not wish you or Henrietta ever -again to call me _father_. I am _not_ your father. Your father was a -different sort of man. I married your mother, but during her lifetime -I never once saw you. You came here, you and Henrietta, and turned -this happy home into Bedlam. You shall address me, whenever you have -occasion to in the future, as _Mister_ O'Brien. You understand?" - -"Ye-es. _She_ said she hated me, and she _looked_--_oh_, how she -looked!" - -"Can you wonder? Aren't you amazed at her forbearance? Do you know that -this is laudanum?" - -He held up the little bottle. - -"I happened to see a bottle of laudanum in my room a few days ago and -meant to throw it away. My wife, your poor mother, often suffered from -rheumatic pains and she used to like to rub the affected parts with a -strong opiate. I did not approve the plan. Now please tell me how you -came by this bottle." - -"I went into your room when you were out and stole it." - -"Then you deliberately meant to kill Maureen's lovely horse, that -creature of life and fire? Could you do it, could you?" - -"I did not mean to kill him. Henrietta was in the plan, too, and -she--she said the horse mustn't be killed. I only meant to make him -very, very sick." - -"But why?" - -"Because I hated Maureen." - -"Ah, well," said Mr. O'Brien, "you have spoken the truth at last. Now -understand me clearly--understand me fully. You and your sister go -with me to-morrow to Jane Faithful's. I will arrange with her--I will -tell her exactly what you are both like. Your sister is bad, but you -are fifty times worse. You and Henrietta and I will leave for Jane -Faithful's school by an early train to-morrow. You hated Maureen, the -gentlest, the sweetest little girl in the world. Why have you been -so cruel to her? Has she not tried by every power, every endeavour -to love you--to be good to you; and yet you deliberately turned her -young life into a living hell. You tried to ruin her piano. Did she -answer you back? No. She only did what she could to have the noble -instrument preserved. She asked Colonel Herbert to take care of it for -the present. He asked in astonishment for her reason, but she would -not give him any. Yes--you hated Maureen--you have said the words. You -said also that you did not mean to kill the horse, but you put enough -laudanum into his mash to kill several horses. Your word therefore goes -for nothing. - -"Perhaps you understand now what _hatred_ to _you_ feels like. I can -well imagine that Maureen's hatred, when at last it is aroused, will be -a very terrible thing; something like the hatred of an angry God. Come -up with me at once to your room and your sister's room. I shall ask her -if she was aware of what you were about to do. I think she will tell -me the truth. Afterwards I will lock you both up in your bedroom. Your -breakfast will be sent to you at an early hour. You had better pack -to-night. You will both stay in that room until I myself come to fetch -you in the morning. I will send Jane Faithful a wire to expect us. -Come, Daisy--no screaming, please. Come at once." - -The Rector hardly touched the little cold hand, but the miserable girl -followed him as meek as a mouse. - -When they reached the dismal, untidy room Mr. O'Brien put his question -to Henrietta. She replied that she knew all about it, but had implored -Daisy not to use enough of the medicine to kill the horse. - -"That is enough," said the Rector. He locked the door and went away. - -The two girls were locked into the ugly north bedroom, and then -and there Daisy screamed and shrieked to her heart's delight, and -Henny-penny bent over her and finally dashed cold water on her head, -and so brought her to her senses. - -"You little fool," she said. "I _knew_ you'd make mischief. A nice time -we have before us. Well, at least we can run away." - -"Yes, we can run away. Oh, Henny, love me! It was awful when _she_ said -she hated me. She said it with such strange, strong power. Oh, Henny, -I'm afraid of her now." - -"Get into bed, gosling, and I'll lie down by your side. No, I don't -quite hate you, but I think you are a poor sort. We can run away from -that female, who I imagine keeps a school; but for the time being we -must pretend to submit." - -Meanwhile, the Rector went down to Maureen. She was standing icy-cold -by her window. She had not attempted to undress. There was the same -strange new look in her eyes. - -"I don't want to hear the story, uncle," she said. "I'm too wicked, -wicked. I _hate_--I _hate_--I _hate_!" - -"My child--my darling. Come and get into my arms." - -"No, I couldn't--I couldn't, not while I feel as I do now. Oh, Uncle -Pat, Satan got into me when I said I HATE, and he's in me still." - -The Rector saw that the child was terribly excited. He himself helped -her to undress and made her lie down in her little bed, and gave her a -certain soothing draught which he knew would be good for her and would -make her sleep and forget her troubles. - -All the time while she was dropping to sleep the Rector was holding her -hand, and all that long time he prayed very hard. He prayed that the -evil spirit might leave the sweetest nature in the world and that the -good spirit of all perfection might return. - -At last the child slept, and then Mr. O'Brien went and had a long talk -with Dominic. He told him what his plans were, and put Maureen into his -care whilst he was absent. He suggested that the Colonel and the Doctor -might be sent for if necessary. - -"She has got a frightful shock," he said; "a frightful shock." - -"I'll manage her, dad," said Dominic; but the first streaks of the -summer morning were illuminating the sky before the boy and his father -lay down to sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -FELICITY. - - -The long journey from the south of Ireland to the old-fashioned, -old-world town of Lutterworth, in the midland counties of England, -took some time. Lutterworth is renowned for its memories of the great -Wyclif, where his church, his Bible, and many other relics of his time -are still to be found. The town stands on a slope, but the church, the -rectory, the well-known grammar school stand on a vast plain, where the -freshest of all fresh air blows and where health is the order of the -hour. - -But what ailed the Rector of Templemore? It seemed as though a force -was driving him. He had heard of course of the school where he meant to -take his step-daughters. He had heard of its excellent qualities; he -had even more than once met that most splendid woman, Jane Faithful. - -The crossing was a rough one and the girls knew at last what -seasickness meant. They were glad, however, to go to school, for they -had enjoyed themselves in their wild fashion in the school on the -outskirts of Dublin which had been selected for them by their mother. - -Henrietta and Daisy now supposed that they were going to a like -establishment. They little guessed what lay before them. They were -crossing over to cold England, a country their mother hated, and which -they could not be expected to love. They expected great sympathy when -they were seasick, but they only received the ordinary care of the -much-tried stewardess. - -At last they arrived at Fishguard, and the Rector took them at once -third-class to London. They would have given the world to stay in -London for even one night, but when they suggested this to the Rector, -he said in his quiet voice: "We continue our journey to Lutterworth." - -It was late in the evening when they reached Lutterworth. A cab had -been ordered and was waiting for them, and they drove straight to Mrs. -Faithful's house. - -They passed the noble old church and the beautiful grammar school, but -still they drove on and on, until finally they turned into a country -lane and stopped before a neatly kept wooden gate. Here the driver got -down, opened the gate, and fastened it back carefully; then the Rector -and the two girls found themselves driving up the long and winding -avenue. - -Although it was now the middle of summer, neither Henrietta nor Daisy -could see much of where they were coming to. The house, the Rector told -them, was called Felicity. It was decidedly old-fashioned, and was -built of stone. It had many little windows with small panes of glass. -There was a great bell at the front door. The Rector pulled the bell. - -"This is my friend's house, and your future home," he said, turning -gravely to his step-daughters. "Mrs. Faithful is not only my friend but -my cousin. Ah, Jane, you have opened the door for me yourself! I have -brought the girls. Have you any one who can look after them and give -them supper. I have a great deal to talk over with you, my dear Jane." - -"What a horrid old maid of a creature!" muttered Daisy. - -Mrs. Faithful pursed up her mouth, but did not utter a syllable. -She fixed her large and really kind eyes, however, in a decidedly -uncomfortable manner on the young people. - -"I will ring for Dawson," she said. "She will attend to the girls and -give them what is necessary. I have had a cosy supper prepared for you, -Patrick. You don't look too strong, dear kinsman. Come this way, pray, -to the Hall of Refreshment. Ah, here is Dawson! Dawson, give the young -ladies their supper, and then take them to the Chamber of Penitence and -see them into bed. I observe they have brought their luggage. Dawson, -Smith will help you to take the trunks up to the Chamber of Penitence. -Good-night, girls, I will see you to-morrow. Now, Patrick, my man, what -is the matter with you?" - -It was with a sinking heart that Patrick O'Brien followed his -kinswoman into the Hall of Refreshment. He had too terrible a story to -tell. He was also wildly anxious to get back to Maureen. The symptoms -of ill-health which had so troubled him were beginning to return under -this new strain. Jane Faithful, however, was a woman of few words and -mighty deeds. She had not started Felicity for nothing. She had not -saved many a rebellious girl for nothing; but her present concern was -not for the Misses Mostyn, but for the Rector's sad and sorely troubled -face. - -She put out a strong, sympathetic hand and touched his. - -"Now, kinsman," she said, "you do not utter a word until you are -properly refreshed. Here is soup of the very best. Here is a mutton -chop which I have specially ordered for you. Here is the last asparagus -in my garden, and here is what will do you more good than anything -else--a bottle of very old port left to me by my father. Now, eat, man, -eat and drink. Afterwards we will go into Confidence next door and you -shall tell me your story." - -"You always were a strong-minded woman, Jane," said the Rector. - -"Yes," replied Jane Faithful. "Now, take your soup." - -So the Rector found a sudden sense of support, of support both mental -and physical, first in the presence of this brave, good, strong-minded -woman, and, second, in the excellent food she provided. - -He ate his chop and his asparagus and drank a glass of the excellent -port wine. - -"Upon my word, Jane," he said, when he had finished, "you do know how -to treat a tired man." - -"Yes, you are better now. You are staying at Felicity for the night." - -"I wish I could; but I must get back to London." "You can't do it, -kinsman; there is no train." - -"Oh," said the Rector, with a heavy sigh. Suddenly he turned and faced -Mrs. Faithful. - -"How, may I ask you a question?" - -"Certainly. Twenty, if you like." - -"Why do you call your rooms by these strange and peculiar names?" - -"It is a fashion of my own," was the quiet reply. "I find by long -experience that it works well. The idea was first presented to me by -one of my dearest friends who keeps a similar school near London; but -I assure you, kinsman, we are not unhappy at Felicity. Far, far from -that. When once we submit to the rules, which cannot be broken, we -feel--both teachers and pupils--a wonderful sense of pleasure, the -sort of pleasure, my dear Patrick, which does not belong to this cold -earth. Now for you, I have prepared the best bedroom in the house. I -call it the Chamber of Peace. The idea was given to me by that noble -man, George Macdonald, who kept such a chamber in his lovely Palace at -Bordighera. He kept it for the sick and suffering of body, but I keep -it for the few I think worthy. Now, come, kinsman, into Confidence. -There we can have our talk out." - -Mrs. Faithful was dressed in dark grey, very soft in texture. She wore -over her head of snow-white hair a little mobcap of finest muslin. -She had a bow at her breast of pale, lilac ribbon, while a similar -bow reposed on her white cap. The whole effect was most graceful and -pretty. The woman herself was not handsome, but there was something -marvellously reposeful about her. Her eyes seemed to look through you. -Anything approaching to falsehood could not live in the room with Jane -Faithful. In short, she was one of the most highly-esteemed characters -in the whole of Lutterworth. - -She took her kinsman now into the room she called Confidence. She -herself took a hard chair, but placed the Rector in an easy one. - -"Now, Patrick, begin at once," she said. "Tell your story and get it -off your mind, but I had better say frankly and at once that I am not -particularly pleased with the appearance of the young people you have -just brought here. I presume you hope to place them under my roof?" - -"I indeed trust you will take them, Jane," and then the poor Rector -began his sorry tale. He left out nothing, he abbreviated nothing, he -told the simple truth from beginning to end. Mrs. Faithful was not one -to interrupt. - -When the Rector had ceased speaking she said, "This is awful, truly -awful. What a girl! _What_ a girl!" - -"Yes, Jane, you are right. What a girl! But it is my little Maureen -whom I am thinking of." - -"Ah," she returned quickly, "I could do with one like Maureen." - -The Rector went on to describe Maureen's present state of mind. In -doing so, he broke down completely. - -"She says, that dear and faithful, loving heart, that the Spirit of God -has forsaken her and that something evil and awful has entered into -her." - -"Send her to me for three months and I will cure her," said Jane -Faithful; "poor lamb, poor pretty dear. Why, she woke up to find -herself that time." - -"But I cannot do without her," said Patrick O'Brien. "She is the light -and life of my existence, and Colonel Herbert, a near neighbour, is -equally devoted to her, and Denis and Dominic and little Kitty all -worship her. I cannot give my darling up." - -"Well, I intend to make a bargain with you," said Mrs. Faithful. "I -don't want those girls at my school. It will be necessary for me to -devote a special governess to them, and even she will not be able to -prevent them from contaminating the others. I have forty girls at -Felicity at the present moment. The two you have brought make two and -forty, and are forty to be injured for the sake of two? It isn't to -be done. There is only one person who can really save those miserable -girls, and that person is Maureen O'Brien. Send her to me. She has her -work cut out for her here. It is with me she ought to be at present, -helping me with those two. I'll look after her and see that she is -not tormented in any way. She shall sleep in the Chamber of Peace and -that Chamber ensures good dreams and sweet slumber. I have a special -governess, who comes to me occasionally but not always, for luckily -I do not require her always. I shall put that choice pair under her -jurisdiction. Luckily she happens to be in the house at the present -moment. Her name is Joan Pinchin. She is rather old-fashioned and firm -as a rock. She is well educated, and will put the Mostyns through their -p's and q's. The girls will sleep in Penitence and do their lessons -with her in Correction until Maureen arrives. Joan Pinchin will take -them out for necessary exercise. She will be by no means cruel to them, -but she will be firm, firm as a rock. Now, is it yes or no? If it is -no, you'd best take them back with you to-morrow morning, for I can -have nothing more to say to them. There, Patrick, take a night to think -over it. Your child shall return to you when her work is done. Now for -Peace and the Chamber of Dreams, poor, tired, distracted kinsman. The -best train in the day leaves Lutterworth at eight in the morning, and -I'll have a cab for one or three of you according to what you decide in -order to catch that train. The Angel of Peace be with you and give you -rest, Patrick O'Brien." - -The distracted Rector found himself in one of the sweetest, purest -rooms he had ever seen. It was all white; white paper on the walls, a -little snow-white bed, a white wardrobe with a long glass, a white -chest of drawers, a white dressing-table, everything white, white -as snow. The windows had white blinds to them and were draped with -white muslin curtains frilled all round. There was a curious feeling -about the room. Try as you would you could not be fretful here. Like -Christian in the Pilgrim's Progress, you had to cast your burden -outside that door, for you could not take it in. It seemed as though -good angels loved to make this white room their home. There were one or -two engravings, different pictures of childhood, Reynolds's immortal -angels, and a few more, not many, done in pen and ink by well known -painters, who had come to celebrity long ago and had given some of the -early fruits of their toil to Jane Faithful. All the pictures were -either of children or of angels, children in prayer, Fra Angelico's -Angels, but there were not many--the walls were mostly bare. On a -little table near the bed lay a large Bible, on the dressing-table -stood a bowl of white roses, on the dressing-table also was a small -exquisitely clean paraffin lamp. - -The whiteness and the purity of the room seemed to get into the -innermost heart of the Rector. He fell on his knees by the little bed -and tears came to his eyes. After a short time, although he had not -uttered a word of prayer, he felt strangely, marvellously peaceful, -also very sleepy. He undressed and laid his head on the snowy pillow. -Immediately he fell asleep. - -In the morning Jane Faithful brought him delicious coffee and home-made -rolls to his room. - -"I know you have slept well," she said. "I see it in your face. It is a -glorious day. See how blue the sky is." - -The Rector looked out of one of the windows. Yes, that blue, blue sky -was the last perfection to add to the Chamber of Peace. - -"Are they to pack their things and go back with you?" asked Jane -Faithful. - -"No," said the Rector; "but the matter rests with Maureen herself. If -you will keep them until you get her decision I will send for them -should it be adverse, or send her to you for three months should it be -favourable. Don't question me, dear Jane. I am out of the world in this -room." - -"I never question," replied Jane Faithful. "I knew well the room would -do it. Well, be as quick as you can. Let me have the child as soon as -possible. It is, believe me, for the saving of souls alive." - -The Rector bowed his head and made no further response. - -Soon afterwards he was driving away from Felicity and two ugly, raging -faces were looking at him out of the small window of Penitence. How -they ground their teeth, how they clenched their hands! - -"We'll run away, Henny. We can't quite stand this," said Daisy. - -"Of course," replied her sister; "but I tell you what it is, old Di, -I'm downright afraid of the woman." - -"You mean old Faithful," said Daisy. - -"Yes, but not only Faithful. The person who brought us in here last -night. And what an appalling room this is! All over texts of Scripture. -If the room was not so high up, I'd leap from the window, that I would; -but if I did, I'd break my neck, like poor mumsie." - -"I'm thinking all the time of Maureen," said Daisy. "Her look, her -words. Oh, Henny, Henny, when Maureen looked at us and said so -solemnly, '_I--hate--you!_' well, I turned _sick_. I thought the world -had come to an end." - -"I tell you what it is," said Henrietta. "I'm sick of that most -unremarkable little speech; and now, do be quick; let's put on our -clothes and go down to breakfast. We'll have a frolic here or my name -is not Henny. Hurrah, here comes Dawson. - - - "'Dawson, me honey, - Take care of your money, - It's all botheration from bottom to top!'" - - -Dawson entered the room very slowly. She did not smile at Henny's -words. She was carrying a bundle of clothes and a great jug of hot -water. She laid the water on the wash-hand stand and then collected -all the two girls' dirty travelling clothes. - -"Ye'll have the goodness to put _these_ on," she said, "for this is the -uniform of the upper floor of the school. I'll be back in one quarter -of an hour to take you both to Discipline, where Miss Joan Pinchin is -waiting to start your education. Your breakfast will also be waiting -for you there, coffee and bread and butter. Now, not a word, young -misses, there's no good whatsoever in complaining at Felicity. What is -ordered _has_ to be." - -She left the room. The girls stared at each other. - -"We'd best be quick," said Daisy at last in a breathless sort of voice. -"I must say I am in a fright; aren't you?" - -"Not quite yet," replied Henny, "but it is coming on. I never could -have dreamed of a place like this." - -"If only we had left the horse alone," sobbed Daisy. - -"It was your thought, remember that," said Henrietta. "Such awful -wickedness never occurred to me. Now, stop crying and dress. You will -have no eyes left." - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -MISS PINCHIN. - - -Sharp to the minute Dawson reappeared. - -"The barber will call about ten," she said. - -"The barber? What for?" asked Henny. - -"To have your hair cut to the regulation length." - -"I won't have my hair touched," said Henny, putting both hands round -her fiery locks. - -"We'll see about that. Come along; your coffee will be getting cold." - -A minute later the girls found themselves in the Chamber of Discipline. -There was a table in the centre, and at one end was a tray covered -with a white cloth. It contained two large breakfast cups of excellent -coffee and two plates piled with thick bread and butter. - -"I say, look here, I want jam," said Henny. - -"Jam is not given in Discipline," said a harsh and somewhat cracked -voice, which so startled the girls that they forgot such a trivial -thing as jam, for the words undoubtedly sounded from the lips of the -lady who was to instruct them. - -She was small, thin and wiry. Her face was an olive tint and very much -wrinkled. Her hands were at once remarkable for their thinness and -their strength, and her voice had a peculiarly grating sound. - -She introduced herself to the Misses Mostyn with a solemn bow and -said, "For a week I am your _only_ teacher. Sit down and eat your -breakfast, for we are late. You won't have a minute to idle. My name -is Pinchin--Miss Pinchin. I am Mrs. Faithful's devoted friend. I rule -over Discipline and all those girls who go through its stringent -methods. Now, hurry, hurry. Don't slop the coffee into your saucer, -Henrietta.--Daisy, eat your bread and butter tidily." - -"I wonder," said Henny, speaking suddenly, for Daisy was silent, "did -you ever have _all_ your plans spoilt just by a streak of light from a -dark lantern." - -"That question I refuse to answer. Now, time is up. Daisy, ring the -bell for Dawson." - -"But we haven't finished yet," said Henrietta. - -"Then I'll give you an additional five minutes. But be quick, and no -chatter, please." - -At the appointed time the girls had eaten sufficient. With the food -Daisy's spirits were reviving. She tugged the bell-rope so violently -that it came down in her hand. - -"For that show of temper," said Miss Pinchin, "you will learn, locked -into your bedroom, twenty lines of _Paradise Lost_." - -"Never heard of it," whimpered Daisy. - -"If you cry, I shall make it forty. Remember, both of you girls, that -you are in Discipline--not a pleasant place--but uncommonly wholesome. -Ah, Dawson, send a man to put up that bell-rope again. Remove the -breakfast things and send Miss Adelaide Marsh in here." - -"If you please, madam," said Dawson, "the young ladies' barber has just -called." - -Miss Pinchin's black eyes gleamed. "Ah, that will do nicely," she said. -"I will take the young ladies into Penitence for the operation." - -"I haven't made up the room yet, ma'am." - -"I'm sorry for that, but Crew has no eyes for anything but her -business." - -Crew, the barber, was a woman therefore. Hateful creature! The girls -might have used their eyes to some effect had it been a man, but a -woman--they really felt in despair. - -"Come, dears," said Miss Pinchin, "we'll soon have it over. And you'll -both be so relieved from your masses of untidy hair." - -"But I like my hair; I love it," said Henny. "It's the same colour as -mumsie's, poor old mums whose neck was broken. Oh, I say, it is cruel -to serve us like this." - -"How, don't talk any more nonsense, girls. Besides, after your hair is -cut, you'll only be allowed to speak in French." - -"Then we must be dumb," said Daisy, "for we don't know any French." - -"I myself will have the pleasure of instructing you in that elegant -language. You will soon know what is absolutely necessary for your -wants. Now, enter your room, dears, for time is getting on." - -These headstrong, naughty girls, who had done exactly what they liked -at Templemore, now found themselves tongue-tied. A tall, gaunt woman -was standing by the little window. In figure she was absolutely flat. -Her dress was a dark and ugly shade of brown. In her hand she held -a very large pair of scissors. Miss Crew looked absolutely calm and -self-possessed. She got Daisy first into her clutches, and having -wetted her tangled locks and reduced them to straightness, she -proceeded to snip them off just above the shoulders. It was possible -for Daisy to keep her hair behind her ears, but all trace of curl had -vanished. The last semblance of her poor attempt at beauty had departed -with the tangled curly locks. - -Henrietta, whose hair was much thicker and richer, strangled a scream. -She began to struggle. - -"I won't. I say, I _wont_!" she cried. - -"You _will_," said Miss Pinchin. - -Crew set to work. The same performance took place over Henny's head. -For those who admire red hair, she had lovely hair. It was thick and -grew in great masses far below her waist. It showed also a far greater -mass of curls than did Daisy's. - -The brush and the cold water, however, were ruthlessly applied. The -prescribed length was carefully measured by Miss Crew and the hair was -cut in a straight line just to touch the shoulders. The golden red -hair fell in a mass at the girl's feet. - -"The young ladies' hair is naturally very curly," said Miss Crew. "I -could, if you wished, madam, apply a pomatum to these heads which would -prevent any inclination to curl for some time." - -"Then please do," said Miss Pinchin. - -The pomatum was used with vigour. - -Daisy gave a howl of agony. Henrietta sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. - -Miss Pinchin supplied each girl with a very large and coarse -pocket-handkerchief. - -"Dry your eyes and come to lessons now," she said in a cheerful tone. -"You look quite respectable, I do declare. Crew, burn that hair." - -"Certainly, Miss Pinchin." - -When the two Mostyns and their governess entered Discipline they saw -a girl seated by the centre table. She was a dark-eyed girl with an -unprepossessing face. Her hair was short just like that of the Mostyn -girls, and evidently the same pomatum had been used upon it, for there -was not a trace of curl. She was busily employed reading her books and -did not take the slightest heed of the Mostyns. - -Lessons began. Miss Pinchin sat with her watch before her. She desired -first Adelaide, then Henrietta, then Daisy to read a page of Green's -_Shorter History of England_ aloud. She wasted hardly any words in -speech, but when the reading had come to an end, she told Henrietta and -Daisy that in future they would have to read _Little Arthur's History -of England_. Then she turned to Adelaide. - -"Adelaide, you are improving. I don't praise. I state a fact. Now, for -your French, my dears." - -Adelaide instantly read a page from a French book. - -"Translate it," said Miss Pinchin. - -Adelaide did so. - -"Now, Henrietta, will you read that page?" - -"I can't. I don't know any French." - -"Nor can I," said Daisy. - -"What a pity! You are likely to be in Discipline for some time. By -the way, Adelaide, I have spoken about you to Mrs. Faithful and she -thinks you may go to Contrition on Monday next, that is, if there is no -falling back." - -"I shall like to go to Contrition," said Adelaide. "The room is so -large." - -"From there," continued Miss Pinchin, "you will be promoted to that -delightful chamber which we call True Repentance, and then, after a -short stay in Sweet Patience, you will have the run of the school. You -will play in the grounds, your punishment-dress will be removed, and -you will sit in Joy, Hope, Faith, and Charity. Thus you will indeed be -happy. You will know what Felicity means. You will forget your evil -ways and turn over a new leaf." - -"And shall _we_ have that chance?" burst from Henrietta. - -"It is possible," replied Miss Pinchin. "Ah, here comes dinner." - -The dinner was quite a good one, hot roast meat, potatoes, vegetables. -In addition, a large glass of milk for each girl. - -"A quarter of an hour I give you to eat your dinner in," said Miss -Pinchin. "Now, pray, do not utter a word. I trust you to Adelaide's -care, while I go downstairs to partake of my frugal meal." - -The very instant the door was closed behind her, Henrietta and Daisy, -with a sort of bound, leaped upon Adelaide. - -"Oh, tell us, Addy, me honey, oh, for glory's sake, tell us what awful -things are going to take place. Our hair is gone. Our clothes are gone. -Our beauteous home is gone. What can be going to happen next?" - -The only reply that Adelaide made was to raise her opaque, dark eyes -and fix them on the faces of the two girls. Then she began with extreme -rapidity to demolish her dinner. When Miss Pinchin reentered the room, -however, Adelaide put into her hand a small piece of paper. - -"They have spoken to me four times," she remarked. "I wrote what they -said on this piece of paper. You may like to see it." - -"Did you speak at all, Adelaide?" - -"No, Miss Pinchin, how could I? I hope I am too well-behaved." - -"You have acted rightly, but do not allow the evil weed of -self-conceit to take possession of you. Girls," here she turned to the -Mostyns, "I am going to take you to Penitence, and lock you in with a -copy each of Milton's _Paradise Lost_. I have marked the passages you -are to learn. I shall now take Adelaide for a brisk walk." - -"But may we not go downstairs and play with the other girls?" suddenly -burst from Henny's lips. - -"_You_--Penitence girls--Discipline girls!--to dream of any intercourse -with those who have left their bonds behind them. Come now, get into -Penitence and learn your Milton. I will take you both for a walk after -tea, for I have no wish to make you ill, and exercise and fresh air are -necessary. Now, Adelaide, put on your bonnet." - -Adelaide flew from the room. She put on the funniest little poke bonnet -that could well be invented. It was made of coarse grey stuff the same -as their dresses, but it was lined with white, and had white strings, -which she tied in a neat bow under her chin. - -"You are a great comfort to me, Adelaide," said Miss Pinchin, when the -girl joined her teacher. "I shall miss you when you go to the Hall of -Contrition. Don't you remember how naughty you were when you first -came to Discipline. I greatly fear I have a harder task before me in -training those Mostyns." - -"You are equal to it," said Adelaide. "You are equal to anything." -She put her hand inside her teacher's arm and gave it almost an -affectionate squeeze. - -"Let's go to the wood and gather flowers," said Adelaide. - -"My dear, you forget. Flowers are not allowed in Discipline." - -"I'm ever so sorry. Do forgive me." - -"You will have flowers, to a small extent, in Contrition," said Miss -Pinchin. "How, let us talk on holy subjects--on the straggles of the -soul after righteousness. You have made a grand fight, and, like -Christian of old, you are coming out of the Slough of Despond. I think -highly of your future, Adelaide, and I feel that I--poor little humble -I--have laid the foundation stone." - -Adelaide, as was her custom, was quite silent. Miss Pinchin and she -walked rapidly, although this part of the day was very hot and there -was no shade anywhere. They were both scarlet and dripping with -moisture when they returned to Discipline. - -"This will do me good," said Adelaide. "It must get some of my -wickedness out." - -"It will, dear child, bless you. Now, I must attend to the Mostyns. I -haven't an instant to spare." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THE POWER OF HATRED. - - -While these things were going on, the Rector of Templemore, a truly -unhappy man, was hurrying back as fast as ever he could to his home. -He hardly thought at all of the Mostyns. He had left them in very good -hands. Jane Faithful was well known to produce extraordinary results. -But it was the thought of sending his child, his darling, he might -almost say his best beloved, away from him for three long months, which -tortured the Rector's brave heart. - -How could he live without her? And in addition to the fact of his own -loneliness he felt anxious about Maureen. He had left his dear little -girl in a queer state of mind. He had left her with an expression on -her sweet face which he had never seen there before. - -Maureen had had a moral shock; Maureen had had a mental shock. -The Rector dreaded he knew not what. Was that lovely nature to be -overthrown, was that sweet soul to go down, down in future, instead of -soaring up, as the lark rises to his heaven of blue? The Rector could -scarcely believe that Felicity was the right place for Maureen, and yet -he had promised to propose the matter to her; and if she agreed to it, -to part from his little bright darling for three long months. He felt -quite aged and desperately weary. - -As he drove up to Templemore on the evening of the second day of his -journey, he was met by Dominic. He heard the voices of the other -children chattering merrily as they were taken off to bed, but there -was no sound of Maureen's voice to greet his ears. - -"Father," said Dominic, "there is no use in hiding things. Maureen is -gone!" - -"My God," said the Rector. He pressed his hand to his heart. It gave -him a stab like a knife. - -"Don't take on, dad; please don't take on. She has not done anything -desperate. She has simply gone away." - -"Tell me everything, my son. Are you positive that the--the child is -safe?" - -"Yes," said Dominic; "there is no mystery about it. She is quite safe." - -"Then she has gone to the Colonel," said the Rector in a relieved -voice. "Good, I thought she might do that. She is wonderfully fond of -'dear Colonel,' as she calls him." - -"No, no; she has not gone to Colonel Herbert. She has certainly been -very queer, and although I tried to talk to her and cheer her all -I could, she hardly replied and did not take the least interest in -anything. Then yesterday morning she came to me with her plans. Her -darling little face was as white as death, but terribly determined, and -that strange light which does not come from God, father, was still -in her eyes, and it--it sort of haunted me; but she spoke gently, -just as she used to speak--the harshness had left her dear voice--it -was only, father, that I could not bear to look at her eyes. You know -how lovely they used to be. Well, she had settled everything all by -herself, and told me that she had sent Garry with Fly-away back to -Colonel Herbert. She said she had written a line to him asking him to -keep the horse until he heard from her again; and if he never heard, -she hoped he would not sell Fly-away. Then she said to me, 'Dominic, I -am not good, and I cannot stay in the house with good people. I may get -right again. I don't feel like it just now; so as I have money enough, -I have arranged my plans. You know old Pegeen has a sister called Grace -Connor, and she has a little bit of a cabin in the wilds of Kerry. I am -going to stay with Grace, who is deaf, and won't worry me at all, and -if ever, ever I feel better, Dominic, you'll be sure I'll come flying -home. But not now, for I'm not fit for this dear home. Take great care -of Uncle Pat. I won't leave him a message, for I am not, not _good_ -enough; but _he'll_ understand.' - -"Well, father," continued Dominic, "that's all; and Pegeen took her -herself to Grace Connor, and Pegeen has returned with her eyes almost -blinded from crying, for she does so love our Maureen." - -The Rector of Templemore, tired as he was, went straight to the kitchen -to interview Pegeen. He found the poor woman in the deepest distress, -but more than inclined to pour out her troubles into the sympathetic -ears of her dearly loved master. - -"Ah! thin, worra the day, and sorra the day," she sobbed. "But there, -masther dear, the wean is safe enough. Grace, own sister to meself, is -poor, and mighty poor entirely, but at the very laste, she's clane. -Ye could ate yer vittles off the floor, so to shpake; and Grace won't -worrit the poor lamb, seeing by the affliction of the Almighty that she -is as deaf as a stone." - -The Rector thanked Pegeen very kindly, with that gentle courtesy which -was his prerogative. He then went into the dining-room and told Dominic -what he intended to do. - -Owing to the Rector's increase of fortune he was now able to send all -his children to first-rate schools, and although Dominic was a little -old to enter Rugby, yet the whole thing had been arranged, and by -the headmaster's consent he was to stay there for three years, when -he hoped to get a good scholarship if possible for his father's own -college, Balliol. - -The boy was full of talent and loved the thought of the life which -stretched before him. He was particularly manly for his age and really -looked more than his sixteen years; but when the Rector went on to -explain Jane Faithful's remarkable decision, Dominic O'Brien turned a -little pale. - -"I think we must put off Rugby until after Christmas," he said. "It -won't do to leave you alone in this house, dad. Denis and Kitty will -of course go back to school. You will necessarily be alone. I cannot -leave you. What is more, I _won't_ leave you." - -"Good boy," said the Rector. "From what you say you seem to think that -Maureen will go to Felicity." - -"At the present moment I feel certain she will go," said Dominic, "but -of course one cannot be sure of anything. You must let me stay with -you, dad." - -"Dominic, I cannot! God knows I have done enough to injure my poor -children, but now that the chance has arrived, I do not intend to throw -your young life away. The headmaster will not let you go to Rugby -unless you join at the autumn term. It is all arranged, my lad; pray -don't torture me any further." - -"I wish I needn't, but I'm afraid I must. I will gladly give up Rugby. -You can get me a tutor here and we'll work for a scholarship for old -Balliol. I am not so ignorant as you think me, dad; but my first duty -is to you." - -"Suppose we ask Maureen what she thinks," replied the Rector. - -"Ah, well, I'll do what she wishes. But I know what she'll say. Father, -you look physically fit to drop. Let me take you to your room." - -"I am going to see Maureen by the earliest train to-morrow," said the -Rector. "So, perhaps, you are right, my son, and I'd better lie down -and try to take what sleep I can." - -Unknown to his father, Dominic slipped into Maureen's little bedroom. -He even left the door between that room and his father's slightly -ajar. Thus he was on the watch, for he was far too anxious to sleep at -all that night. But the Rector, worn out with sorrow, slept and had -horrible dreams. He was awakened from one, worse than any other, by a -light hand touching him on the shoulder, and there stood Dominic with a -little tray of tea and bread and butter in his hand. - -"You must get up, dear old Gaffer," he said. "The phaeton will be round -in less than half an hour. Pegeen has given me full directions as to -the whereabouts of her sister's cottage. I am going with you--you know -that, of course." - -"Yes, Dominic, my boy." - -The Rector sipped his tea, which was fragrant and good, ate his bread -and butter, and was on the way to Kingsala in time to catch the very -first train, which would leave that fashionable and quaint resort at -half-past eight in the morning. Dominic secured first-class tickets for -himself and his father. They had to endure the usual tiresome wait at -the Half-way House, but presently the train from Bradley steamed in, -the travellers took their places, and by-and-by, to their great relief, -found themselves in the city of Cork. - -It was considered a very noble city by Dominic's young eyes, but the -Rector had been further afield. He knew what to do now, and exactly how -to proceed. Dominic watched his father intently. He had a time-table -in his pocket and discovered that the first train to Mallow, on the -Blackwater, did not start until half-past twelve o'clock. At Mallow -they would have to change and get into one of the slow-going trains -which proceed to Kerry. - -"Father," said the boy, "we have lots of time. You've got to eat." - -"I did eat. You brought me something to my room." - -"A cup of tea and a little bread and butter," replied Dominic. "Oh, -dad, I'm awfully hungry. Let's go to Baker's in the Mall and have a -right good meal." - -The Rector certainly could go hungry himself, not having the slightest -appetite, but he would not allow such a proceeding on the part of his -son, so to Baker's they went, that shop of great renown, where they -had coffee of the richest, and different sorts of slim cakes, cut thin -like wafers and buttered hot; and then each partook of a large plate -of delicate, pink Limerick ham. It must be owned that the boy enjoyed -his food, and it must be owned also that the Rector at least partook of -his; whether he tasted it or not is another matter. They then took an -outside car and drove to the station, from which, if they so wished, -they could take a train to Dublin city, but from which they could also -get to Mallow, that most lovely old-world town on the borders of the -county Cork. They passed the swift-flowing waters--well might they -be called the Blackwater, so dark and deep, yet clear, were all their -depths. They then had a tiresome wait for a train for Kerry. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -THE HOME OF SILENCE. - - -If Maureen O'Brien had one thing to be thankful for at the present -moment, it was the fact that Grace Connor was at once very old and -very deaf. She would have done anything in the world for the child, -who was put into her care by Pegeen; but the two, so strangely brought -together, were prohibited from speaking to each other; and the queer -silence of the place, and the rough but sure cleanliness had a soothing -effect on Maureen's troubled breast. She need not ask Grace anything; -she need not speak to her at all. - -On the morning after her arrival, she put on a shabby little hat and -prepared to go out. Seeing her about to do so, Grace called aloud in -her cracked voice: - -"Whist, a minute, honey asthore, ye'll be wanting your vittles. Come in -when it plazes ye; the door's on the latch day and night." - -Grace darted into a little sort of pantry which she possessed, and soon -brought out a tiny basket filled with slices of bread and butter and a -bottle of creamy milk. The girl nodded by way of thanks. She then went -away. She walked far, for she wanted to get very tired. She was in a -strange, new country, a country of mighty grandeur, of solemn peaks, -of deep, deep dales, a country of rushing waters, of the greenest of -moss and of flowers--a country unlike any that Maureen had ever dreamed -of. Maureen was in no mood to go into raptures about anything then, -however. She saw a peak in the distance--a peak of one of the many -mountains--by no means one of the highest, but still not too high to -prevent her from climbing to the top of it. This peak became her goal. -She made for it, and soon, all too soon, she left the moss and the -green, green grass of the emerald isle behind her, and found herself -confronted by solid rock, which rose up in all directions in the shape -of huge boulders. - -Here there was not a scrap of vegetation, nothing but rock, hard and -stony; but the highest boulder led to the top of the peak, and she -would get there or die in the attempt. Up there she would be alone, -alone with her trouble; perhaps God would come back to her! Perhaps the -wicked, terrible angels would forsake her. Those fiery spirits of the -pit might retire from this solitary grandeur; at least Maureen felt -that she could fight her battle best on the top of the peak. - -So she went on and on. She was naturally almost as good a climber as -she was a horsewoman, and step by step, slowly but surely, she attained -her object. Half-way up she felt very hot and very thirsty. She opened -her bottle of milk and took a draught. This refreshed her. She went on -her way again. At last--at long last--towards evening she had reached -the eminence of this great peak of Desolation. She sat down on the -jagged ridge of rock and gazed around her. Mountains everywhere--Great -Tork with his nightcap on; Mangerton, and many others. Mountains, -nothing but mountains. Her little peak, which looked so mighty from -below, seemed small and insignificant now that she had reached it, -but the sight that met her view was not only that of mountains--it -was also that of lakes. One lake mingling with another and yet again -with another, and from some of the mountains tumbled and roared great -waterfalls sounding as loud as avalanches in Switzerland. In the far, -far distance Maureen could just catch a glimpse of a mighty gorge, -which is well known as the Gap of Dunlow. - -Maureen sat very still. She was unhappy, but not quite so unhappy as -she had been at Templemore. She had a queer sensation over her as -though the Wicked Angels, those horrors of the Pit, who had entered -into her breast were waiting for her at the bottom of the peak. But she -knew also that they could not get up here, for God and His Holy Angels -dwelt here. She began to wonder that God should allow one like her--so -terribly full of wickedness--to sit on the top of the solitary peak. - -She stretched out her arms with a strong and exceeding bitter cry. -"Forgive me! Forgive me! Take the hatred out of me. Dear Lord God, -merciful Saviour, take the hatred out of Maureen. Oh, I cannot--I -cannot live long with hatred in my heart!" - -Then it seemed to her that as she prayed and flung herself in her -despair on the hard bosom of the rock, a Voice said to her--a Voice -exceedingly strong and gentle--"Arise and live!" - -She started to her feet in sudden alarm. Was there anyone near? Was it -possible that one of God's angels had come close to her. "Arise and -live!" said the Voice again. "Know well that those who sin and repent -are forgiven. Their sins are blotted out for evermore. Be of good -comfort. Live your life." - -Then all of a sudden it seemed to Maureen that a spell of most -wonderful peace visited her, that the agony of the last few days died -away, never to return. Hers was indeed no ordinary nature. It was full -of depths of passion, of undying love. To find that Hate had taken up -his abode in such a heart as hers was indeed agony. But now the child -knew that the awful thing called Hatred had left her for ever. - -She wiped two or three scalding drops from her eyes and fell sound -asleep on the summit of the rock. She slept for a long time, for she -had not slept at all the night before, and when she came to herself she -was startled and amazed at her position; also at what had taken place, -and at the complete change within her. She no longer hated those poor -Mostyns; she pitied them. She felt that in the greatness of her love, -it could even encompass them, and take them in. She was very stiff and -tired, however, and she perceived to her perplexity that the day had -completely gone, and that she was alone on the peak, in the night, with -the stars shining down on her and the great black guardian forms of the -other mountains surrounding her. She felt strangely, wonderfully at -peace. - -She must get back to Grace Connor. She looked in vain for her little -basket, but it had rolled away long ago into a chasm beneath her -feet. It would be extremely difficult for Maureen to find her way -back from this dangerous peak even in the day-time, but at night it -was impossible. She did not know a step of the road; she was also -exceedingly weak and giddy for want of food. She stooped down suddenly -and pressed her lips on the hard rock. "The Place where God Himself -delivered me," she murmured to herself, and then she smiled, her old -bright happy smile, and the old lovely light returned to her eyes. - -[Illustration: She stretched out her arms wider and sang in her -glorious voice.--_Page 204._] - -She stood up, a slim young figure, but graceful and tall withal, on -this eternal summit, and she stretched out her arms wider and sang in -her glorious voice: - - - "Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin? - The Blood of Jesus whispers Peace within. - Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round? - On Jesus' Bosom naught but calm is found. - - "Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown? - Jesus we know, and He is on the Throne." - - -The echoes all around took up the sweet true voice. It ceased, and -there followed a stillness, then again the girl sang: - - - "Fight the good fight with all thy might, - Christ is thy Strength, and Christ thy Right; - Lay hold on life, and it shall be - Thy joy and crown eternally. - - "Run the straight race through God's good grace, - Lift up thine eyes, and seek His Face; - Life with its way before us lies, - Christ is the path, and Christ the prize. - - "Faint not, nor fear, His Arms are near, - He changeth not, and thou art dear; - Only believe, and thou shalt see - That Christ is all in all to thee." - - -As the last words echoed and rebounded from peak to peak a young voice -from below shouted, "Hullo, Maureen, hullo, darling! I'm coming, I'm -coming! Stay where you are until I reach you, mavourneen." - -A few minutes later Dominic had clasped Maureen, his Maureen of old, in -his arms. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE PEAK OF DESOLATION WHERE GOD WAS. - - -The Rector paced up and down in front of Grace Connor's little cabin. -The Rector's heart was sorely burdened. The stars in their courses, the -moon as she came up in the heavens, had no effect upon him. Dominic had -gone in search of Maureen. It was impossible to say a word to Grace. -Her deafness was of that stony sort that no words could break. She -lived in a world of silence--a world of silence absolute and complete. - -Grace Connor was not an unhappy old woman. The Silences around her, -the Everlasting Hills which surrounded her, gave to this withered old -body a strange sensation of peace. She saw immediately that the Rector -was troubled, but it was impossible for her to help him. She therefore -did not try. She looked at Dominic with the admiration all women had -for the brave lad, and when he spoke of Maureen, hoping that his -clear young voice would penetrate through the unbroken stillness, she -understood him sufficiently to point outwards, and to smile in a vague -and yet comforting manner. Then she busied herself, preparing all she -could in the way of refreshments for the Rector, the young maid, and -the boy. - -Pegeen had provided her with eatables and with money to buy more. In -her early days Grace had also been quite a famous cook, so now she -prepared eggs and bacon and she made coffee in her ancient coffee pot, -coffee of the very best description. She laid her little table with -a snowy but coarse cloth, and put the coffee on the hob to keep hot, -and then she waited with folded hands. She was accustomed to waiting, -she had waited for so many long years now. She saw the Rector pace -backwards and forwards outside the cabin. She herself personally was -not at all troubled. She was sure the young maid would soon come back, -but she could not convey this certainty which dwelt in her mind to Mr. -O'Brien, for it was only very occasionally she spoke. In fact she had -_almost_ lost the power of speech in that stony silence in which she -dwelt. She stood and contemplated her own work, her spotless kitchen, -nothing forgotten, for the welfare of the hungry wanderers. They would -soon be here; she was certain on that point. - -But the Rector was not certain. His troubles affected him in a most -intense way. A kind of black sorrow had descended on him, the like -of which he had never even imagined. As the night grew darker the -feelings in his breast became more intense. Suddenly, as they reached a -certain pitch of untold agony, the deaf old woman came up and touched -him on the sleeve. Her eyes were very bright, and her face full of -unfathomable peace. - -"Masther," she said, "_pray_! 'Our Father,' masther." - -In an instant the Rector was on his knees, tears were streaming from -his eyes. He prayed aloud the prayer of all prayers, and it seemed as -though Grace understood him, for she joined her words to his in a kind -of rapture. Her cracked old voice sounding the note of hope through -life's despair. - -The moment the prayer had come to an end, the old woman went back into -the cottage and began busily preparing the supper. To judge by her -movements, she seemed not to have a moment to lose; time was hurrying -her on, forcing her forward; she broke the new-laid eggs into the -frying pan and put the bacon with them. She knew her cooking would be -good of the good; and while she was so busy the Rector walked a little -farther and saw clearly through the summer night two figures coming to -meet him--a boy and a girl. The boy's strong young hand and arm were -round the girl's waist. They were walking very quickly. Suddenly the -girl saw the Rector, made one quick bound away from her companion, -and in a flash of time, was at the Rector's side. Her arms were round -his neck and her eyes, sweet as of old, but now also triumphant, were -looking into his. - -"Uncle Pat--Uncle Pat--I left the evil things at the bottom of the Peak -of Desolation, and the dear beloved God has come back to me, and his -angels have kissed Maureen, and Maureen is happy--oh _so_ happy again. -Uncle Pat, do you know I am desperately hungry!" - -"My child!" said the Rector. He could scarcely breathe for a minute, -from a sense of exhaustion and relief; then Grace's face appeared at -the door of the cabin. - -"Supper," she muttered; and she disappeared within. - -Was there ever in all the wide world a meal enjoyed like that meal, -for all three were faint with exhaustion, and the old smile was in -Maureen's eyes--the old smile, but altered. It was a smile of triumph -now as well as joy. She had gone through her severe battle, and come -out rejoicing. - -That night the Rector and the two children slept as best they could in -Grace's cabin. She herself disappeared; nobody knew where she went; -she left them the little cabin to themselves. She went out, leaving -everything in spotless order. - -"_Breakfast_--_marning_--_seven_," she remarked, and then she vanished. - -Maureen was herself, yet not her old self, but at least she was her -old self in her tender care for others. She insisted on Uncle Pat -and Dominic lying down side by side on the deaf old woman's bed, and -she herself put a pillow under her head and lay on the floor in the -kitchen. Thus the short remainder of the night passed. - -Early in the morning a breakfast very similar to supper was prepared -by Grace with the help of Maureen. Grace gazed very hard at the child. - -"Ye've got a differ on ye," and she pointed to her own two eyes. - -Maureen nodded. - -"It war the mountains," said Grace. - -Maureen nodded again. - -Immediately after breakfast, the Rector paid the old woman a handsome -sum for her services, and he, Maureen, and Dominic went back to -Templemore. Maureen was quiet and pale, but the happy light still -filled her eyes, and nothing else mattered. Nothing else truly, -although the Rector knew he had a task before him. He had got his -darling back; she was safe. The awful shock to her reason was averted, -but, yes, according to his promise, he must lose her or give her the -opportunity of leaving him. - -When they got to Templemore, Maureen rushed into the kitchen and hugged -Pegeen. - -"Look in my eyes, Pegeen," she said. - -"Glory be to the Vargin," said Pegeen, "I thought mayhap it might be -so, and now ye'll look afther the masther, blessed man." - -"Of course," replied the child. - -As she went from the kitchen to the dining-room, she sang a few lines -of that glorious song, too well known to be repeated--"My heart is like -a singing-bird." - -She saw Dominic and his father anxiously talking together. She went -and stood in front of them, her whole face lit up with sweetness. - -"Oh, Dominic," said the Rector, "I feel as if I couldn't do it." - -"Father dear, you must--you know you must." - -"Well, then, leave us alone, lad. I can do it best when Maureen and I -are alone." - -Maureen looked in astonishment at the man and the boy, then she drew a -chair close to her Uncle's side. - -"Must I--_must_ I talk of the dreadful past?" she asked. - -"No, my sweet, my own. It is of the future I have to converse with you." - -"Something is troubling you, Uncle Pat." - -"A good bit, mavourneen." - -"Well," said Maureen, "had we not better have it out? It will be off -your mind then, and rest assured of one thing, that nothing can make -Maureen unhappy now." - -"You blessed darling. But _I_ fear still, Maureen, I am a selfish old -man, and I--I don't want to part with you." - -Maureen did turn a trifle paler than usual. - -"Part with me?" she said. - -"Yes, that's the trouble. Now listen! Give me your dear little hand to -hold." - -Maureen immediately put both of her hands into the Rector's. - -"Now speak, Uncle Pat." - -"Well, my darling, it's this. I took the Mostyns away from here after -their evil behaviour. I did not tell you where I was taking them, but -I knew of a certain school in the midland counties of England, which -is kept by a relation of mine. Her name is Jane Faithful, and she has -as a rule a little over forty girls in her school. It is a school -where naughty and troublesome girls have been sent from time to time, -and from time to time have returned to those who belonged to them, -completely altered--in short, penitent. I don't know what her system -is, but I imagine that at least at first it is somewhat severe. I -took the girls to her school and told her their whole story, then she -made a strange request. She said she had often naughty girls in her -school, but none to compare with the Mostyns for badness, for cruelty -and downright wickedness. She said she would _not_ undertake these -girls unless _you_--YOU, Maureen--went to her for three months. She -would treat you, my child, as an honoured guest and take every care of -you; and I--I was broken-hearted, but I told her that if you consented -I would not say nay. Maureen, I would let you go. This is an awful -trouble to me, my colleen." - -"Why, Uncle Pat," cried Maureen. "Isn't it just perfectly glorious. -How I have my chance. I can fold my love round those poor girls. They -shall get inside my heart of hearts. Oh, Uncle Pat, this is indeed a -sign that God has forgiven me. Uncle Pat, darling, I am more than glad -to go. How could I do otherwise? Having _hated_--oh, _how_ I hated--do -I not now equally love? Write to that lady at once, Uncle Pat, to say -I'm coming, and three months will pass swiftly, and who knows but I may -bring them back to you, changed and altered in all respects." - -"Maureen, I haven't a word to say. Of course you must go, dearest. This -is the will of God." - -"Shall I go to-morrow?" asked Maureen. "We might send a wire to-night." - -"So soon, child of my love?" - -"Yes, Uncle Pat; for they want me even more than you do; and, what's -more, you are not to come with me." - -"I must. You are not to take that long journey alone." - -"Dom will take me. Dom is a splendid traveller, but now there is a -great deal to do. May I find Dom? I want to speak to him." - -Dominic, who was lingering restlessly about, not far from the bed of -periwinkles, was quickly by Maureen's side. - -"So the father has told you, Maureen." - -"Yes, and of course I'm going, Dom, but he, he must not travel any -more. He's just played out. I want you to take me to that school, Dom, -dear old boy; but first I want to write a note to 'dear Colonel,' and -we can send it by one of the grooms. He must wait for an answer. Then I -wish to send a wire to-night to Mrs. Jane Faithful, to tell her I am -going." - -"You are in a great hurry to leave us, Maureen." - -The girl looked at her cousin rather sadly. - -"After all, even _you_ don't quite understand," she said. "How can I -leave _them_ in misery a day longer if I can help it." - -"But you----" began the boy. - -Maureen's little hand closed his lips. - -"Don't say the word--don't--don't. Only I will tell you now that by the -exceeding greatness of my _hatred_ so also is the depth and passion of -my love." - -"You are like no one else, Maureen," said Dominic. - -He went away soberly and gravely. He had not ventured to tell Maureen, -in her present mood, that he was obliged on account of this arrangement -to give up Rugby for good, that those glorious years of schoolboy life -in one of the greatest public schools were to be denied him. He knew -well, only too well, that it was impossible for his father to be left -alone. Well, it could not be helped. - -But Maureen was looking at him with an intense light in her eyes. - -"Boykins, what's troubling ye, avick?" - -"Oh, nothing, darling, nothing." - -"Boy, there is. Out with it to Maureen this minute." - -"It's only this. I'm just so beastly selfish. I did so want to go to -Rugby, and the Headmaster says he will not take me unless I join the -school at the autumn term, which is close at hand now. I felt somehow -as though it was _such_ a golden chance. I can't help saying it, -Maureen; I did look forward to it. But I ask you, dearest and best, can -I leave the old man alone with his trouble--alone, quite alone--with -only servants to see after him?" - -"To be sure, you can't; it would be impossible," said Maureen. "Look -here, Dom, somehow I feel in riotous spirits. I won't write that letter -to 'dear Colonel.' I'll go to see him instead." - -"I don't pretend to understand you, Maureen." - -"You must have patience, boykins. Can I have any kind of trap? -Otherwise I'll walk." - -"Yes, I think I can get you a trap," said Dominic. - -"Then say nothing to your father but get it quickly." - -Soon Maureen, accompanied by one of the grooms, was seated in a shabby -little two-wheeled cart and was herself driving a rough colt over the -country roads towards Rathclaren. - -Now if there was a miserable man to be found in a beautiful place at -that moment, it was "dear Colonel." Maureen's letter, the return of the -horse, and the groom, had completely upset him. He refused his food, -he could not eat, he dared not make inquiries, for the little letter -seemed, somehow, very sacred, but his heart was broken up with longing -for the child and with undefined fears for her safety. As to Fly-away, -never was a small, high-spirited Arab so petted and fussed over. The -Colonel could not make enough of him. His white oats were the whitest -in the country, his hot mash the most tempting, his loose box was the -perfection of a loose box, and as to Garry the groom, he had a royal -time in the kitchen, telling the other servants over and over again of -the mysteries of that awful night when "herself, the little wicked 'un -she was, tried to pison Fly-away, and would have succeeded but for a -sthreak of light coming up through the boards." - -"Mayhap it was the Vargin sent the light," said the cook. - -"No, no, woman, I'm not superstitious. It was the dark lantern that -caused the light. My word, she is a cunnin' wan." - -The kitchen greatly enjoyed the adventure, and Garry, handsome and -gay, was more fascinating than ever, more welcome than ever, with his -merry eyes and cheery laugh. But then came the horrible news that Miss -Maureen had gone away, no one knew where, and the Colonel was off his -feed _entirely_, and his valet was certain that the Colonel never slept -o' nights, but that he was on the fret the whole day and night. "And ef -the round of the sun took forty-eight hours he'd still be on the fret," -said Terence, the valet. "This sort o' thing will kill the Colonel. My -word! I don't know what to make of it." - -"Ate your mate and stop talking horrors," said the cook. "I declare -what wid _this_, and wid _that_, and Garry and the hoss coming back -as they did, I feel sort o' creepy. I'm not going to lose _my_ night's -rest, me good man, so ye'd best drop the dismals, for they don't suit -me complaint at all, at all." - -It was while the servants were talking in this manner in the hall and -Mrs. MacGill was wondering in what sort of manner she could tempt the -Colonel's appetite, that the sound of wheels was heard outside. The -next minute Garry gave a sort of screech, and Maureen said, "Mind this -little horse, Garry. I want to see the Colonel." - -"He is in his study, missie asthore. Heaven be praised to see your -swate face. Oh, but it's I that am mighty glad." - -Maureen held out her little hand, grasped Garry's for a moment, and -then said in her old cheerful voice, "I must see Fly-away, by-and-by." -The next moment she had burst into the Colonel's study without knocking. - -She had dressed herself neatly and prettily. The shabby clothes in -which she had gone away were discarded. The day was a hot one, and -she was all in white with a little white hat trimmed with soft white -ribbons. Nothing could be simpler than her dress--no face more charming -than hers. - -The Colonel gave a sort of gasp. - -"Maureen," he said, "Maureen!" - -She ran to him and flung her arms round his neck. - -"Dear, _dear_ Colonel, I've come back. Everything is all right. All -things are beautiful in this beautiful world. Some day perhaps when I -am fit to tell it, I will relate my story to my own Colonel, but for -the present I would rather ask you to trust Maureen." - -"My blessed child, I always trust you; but your letter gave me great -pain." - -"Ah, _that_ letter," said Maureen, and she gave a little shudder. -"Colonel, I love you very, very much, and I want you to keep Garry and -Fly-away for three months, then I rather expect I'll want them both -back again. But I want you to do something more than that for me. Will -you? Promise!" - -"You blessed child, I never promise in the dark." - -"Well, it shan't be in the dark; it shall be in the light. You know -that broth of a boy Dominic is going to Rugby. It's a bit late for him -to go, and if he misses this term, the Headmaster won't have him, but -he'll have to miss this term and Rugby altogether unless _you_ come to -the rescue." - -"Good gracious, Maureen, what have I to do with it?" - -"Well it's like this. We can't leave Uncle Pat alone; he's not -accustomed to it, and he has gone through a frightful lot lately, so I -want you, 'dear Colonel,' out of all your wealth (and you know you are -_very_ rich) to put a good curate into Templemore, and take Uncle Pat -with you, when the weather gets cold enough, to the Riviera, and until -then to have him here, if you both like, or to take him at once to -parts of Europe which he has never seen and would like to, beyond the -beyonds! I want you to be with him while I am away. Will you do this -_great_ thing for your own little Maureen?" - -"Well, to be sure, child, it is a great thing, and I am a bit tired of -travelling, and I like my own comforts and my own home, but I'd do more -than that for your sweet face. Bless you, my little girl. If there's -a great hurry over this business, we'll have the motor car out and go -straight to the Rectory this evening. Upon my word, I'm hungry. You -know the ways of this house, Maureen. Ring the bell, my best darling." - -When Terence appeared with such startling swiftness that there was -circumstantial evidence that he must have had his ear to the keyhole, -the Colonel looked him up and down very shrewdly. - -"Under the _circumstances_, I forgive you, Terence," he said; "but -clearly understand, _don't_ do it again. Now, pray listen. Miss Maureen -and I want dinner quite simple at _once_, and in half an hour from now -I desire Laurence, my chauffeur, to have the motor car at the front -entrance. Now hurry, please, for there is not a moment to lose." - -"Cert'ly, Colonel," was the valet's response. He fled to the kitchen. - -"Now, of all the wonders," he said, "that blessed man our Colonel has -got and gone and started an _appertite_. It's dinner for _two_, and -not a holy minute's delay. It's not by yer lave! but the thing has -to be--Dinner--'sharp, and look alive' war his orders; and what's -more--him what never goes out towards evening, which I take it to be -the werry glory o' the day--the motor car is to be at the front door -all ready for a drive for himself and Missie--bless her heart." - -"For Heaven's sake, don't stand gapin' there!" cried cook. "Give a body -a chance, wull ye, ye omorthorn. You and yer creepy stories indade, and -for sure! How let me prepare a male fit to ate for the nicest gintleman -in the whole of ould Ireland." - -So Maureen and the Colonel ate together, and the Colonel drank two -glasses of soft delicious wine, and he insisted on Maureen having -a tiny glass to keep him company; then they were off and away for -Templemore. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE LOVE THAT PASSETH KNOWLEDGE. - - -There are certain people born into the world, apparently quiet and -unassuming, really modest and without any apparent self-confidence, who -yet manage to rule all those with whom they come in contact. There are -not many of these gracious souls, but they dawn now and then on the -world and little Maureen O'Brien happened to be one of these lovely and -most gracious personalities. Her agony, untold, unspeakable, when she -forgot herself and gave way to what she, poor little love, thought sin -of the deepest dye, has been fully described. Afterwards she saw the -Face of her loving Father again, her Heavenly Father. The Good Angels -came back to her, the Bad Angels departed, and she was as busy as the -busiest honey-bee in making arrangements for all possible wants of -those people whom she considered her own. - -It was unspeakably strange how a little girl like Maureen could -influence a great manly boy like Dominic, but it was much stranger how -she could compel the Rector and the Colonel to follow her will. She -did it with such extreme gentleness that she contrived to make both -these men feel that it was their own desire, that they _themselves_ -personally had longed for this arrangement. "Dear Colonel" cheered -up and clapped his hands as he discussed their foreign tour with the -Rector. The Rector declared that it was the unspoken dream of his life -to see these lovely places. The Colonel happened to know the very young -man who could come to Templemore as _locum tenens_; in fact the matter -was arranged from end to end before these two elderly men parted that -night; and Maureen stood by, smiling gently at both, and never uttering -a syllable. It was to be _their_ idea; it _was_ their idea. This is the -fashion of the Maureens of the world. - -"Dominic would of course go to Rugby; why, whatever should prevent the -lad?" cried the Colonel, "when I have been panting for the Italian -lakes, and to go from there on to the Riviera, and only waiting because -I couldn't get a friend like yourself to come with me, old man." - -"And I," replied the Rector, "have dreamed of those places full of -glory, but I never thought to see them." - -"You'll see them now with a vengeance," said the Colonel; "and we have -no time to spare. Tom Fagan--first rate chap, Tom--can take on the -duties of your parish at once. You may as well come back with me to -Rathclaren when I call for you to-morrow after Maureen has gone." - -"Ah, my little Maureen," said the Rector. - -He looked at the child with his eyes full of sympathy, but she saw -well enough, for the time at least, that she was no longer first -with him. The Grand Tour came first. The dream of his life, about to -be realised at long last, _was_ first for the time being. So little -Maureen went off with a light heart on the following morning. - -Pegeen, it is true, cried a good deal, but the Rector did not cry. His -eyes were bright with renewed health. Burke also looked very mournful; -but they both promised the little girl to do their utmost for Mr. -Fagan, God bless him, "and they would kape the ould house like a new -pin, God bless _it_!" - -So Maureen went away. Her heart was indeed like a feather. Dominic -was very near chortling in his joy; Dominic had read well enough how -cleverly, how marvellously Maureen had managed. - -"Upon my word," he said, "I don't know myself, little mate; I can be a -Rugby boy with an easy mind after all." - -"Of course you can, Dom, and be sure you write to me. Dear Colonel -has promised to write from every place they stop at--if it is only a -picture-card--and Uncle says he will write on Sundays. Oh, Dom, _don't_ -they look happy, _dear_ old men." - -"They're 'chortling,' if you like," replied Dominic. - -So the boy and girl started on their journey. They crossed from -Rosslair to Fishguard, and then took train to London. Dominic was very -anxious to spend one night in London, but Maureen would not allow this. - -"No," she said, "no. _They_ are crying for me very hard. We'll go -straight on." - -"Who in the world are crying for you, asthore?" - -"Why, those two poor weans. It is lovely to be wanted," said Maureen. - -"I thought you----" began Dominic. - -"Don't say the words, Dom. For a short and most awful time there -was a wicked Spirit in me, but he died at the bottom of the Peak of -Desolation, and in his place there entered"--Maureen's eyes, lovely -indeed now, were fixed on her companion--"the Angel of all Charity, of -all Forgiveness, of Love, Love Divine. Don't let's talk any more, Dom. -I'm sleepy." - -She curled up close to her cousin-brother, and with her head on his -shoulder dropped asleep. - -How it so happened that things were not going on at all well in -Felicity. Hitherto, Jane Faithful, by the aid of Miss Pinchin and some -other choice teachers, had managed her little flock with, on the whole, -marked success. But the Mostyns were different from any other girls who -had ever come to Felicity. The Mostyns were hopelessly rebellious. The -Mostyns, after the first couple of days, began to break rules and defy -punishment. Miss Pinchin, clever and stern as she was, became almost -afraid of the girl who had all but poisoned the horse, while Henrietta -spent her entire nights in screaming, shrieking, and crying. - -Daisy at last became dull and stupid, but Henrietta was decidedly -reckless. She managed to get out of her small window and to sit on the -extremely narrow ledge and dangle her feet in the air and shout to each -girl who passed, "Hullo! who are you? _I'm_ Henny-penny, and I'm in -prison for nothing at all." - -Then there came a day when Daisy refused to get up. She said it was not -worth while. Her face had a terribly dull and vacant expression. Henny -in despair pulled her out of bed, but she dropped in a dead, senseless -lump on the floor. She had really fainted. Then Henny got out again on -to the window ledge in her nightdress and, poised on this dangerous -spot, shrieked the information to all who could hear that Daisy 'was -_kilt entirely_,' and that Faithful had better send for a doctor or she -would hang by the neck until she died. - -This terrible information brought Dawson with Miss Pinchin, and last, -but by no means least, Jane Faithful, on the scene. The girl, Daisy, -was lying in a dead heap on the floor. - -"I'd have put her back in bed," said Henny, "but she's too heavy. One -of ye cruel ones catch her by the legs, and the other lift her round -the shoulders. She's dead as sure as I'm alive. Nice sort of school -this to send respectable girls to!" - -"Oh, my dears, my dears," said poor Mrs. Faithful. She was in many -ways a severe woman, but she had a truly kind heart. She bent over the -white, unconscious girl and asked Miss Pinchin in a decidedly angry -voice what she could have done to bring the girl to that pass. - -"I can't manage her," replied Miss Pinchin. "I will own it to you, -dearest friend. Daisy Mostyn and her sister are the first two occupants -of this happy school whom I have failed to train. Henrietta is a trifle -easier to manage than her sister, but Daisy will not eat nor speak. I -have tried severity; I have tried everything." - -"Have you tried _kindness_?" asked Mrs. Faithful. - -"Kindness!" said Miss Pinchin. "Kindness in the Hall of Discipline?" - -"Ah," said Jane Faithful, "even there. It's an ennobling influence. You -have indeed failed, Joan Pinchin. Henrietta, get dressed at once and -come with me." - -"No; I don't intend to leave my sister," said Henrietta. - -"Well, stay where you are and I will have your breakfast sent up to -you, but I must see immediately about getting a doctor for this poor -little girl. I trusted her to you, Joan Pinchin. I never saw _such_ a -change in any face." - -"She's dying, if you want to know," said Henrietta. "She's going pop, -like poor mumsie did. You won't catch _me_ leaving her; only I would -like to see _you_, old Faithful, whipping that horrid Pinchin." - -"Don't talk in such an intemperate way, Henrietta. Joan, come with me. -Dawson, I will send Annie Anderson to look after these children, and -you will have the goodness to put on your bonnet and cloak without a -moment's delay and fetch Dr. Halsted." - -"Oh my word!" gasped Dawson; but Mrs. Faithful was one to be obeyed. - -Joan Pinchin and Dawson left the room, and almost at the same moment -a rosy-cheeked girl, with blue eyes, and golden hair twined round -her head, entered the Chamber of Penitence. Her hair, her eyes, her -complexion, made her look all sunshine. She was dressed in the garb of -a nurse, very simply and neatly. - -"Oh, poor, poor little one," she said. "Miss Henrietta, you must get -your clothes on, or you'll catch your death of cold." - -"But that's what I want," said Henrietta. "I'm sick of life!" - -"Oh my dear, you oughtn't to say that. Think of our dear, dear Mrs. -Faithful." - -"Upon my word, she's not dear to _me_," said Henrietta. "But I rather -take to you; and it was perfectly lovely to hear her pounding it into -old Pinchin, and that abominable Dawson. Why, Dawson simply _dripped_ -tears as she went away. What is your name, Goldilocks?" - -"I'm called Nurse Annie, dear." - -"Do you think my sister will die?" - -"I hope not, dear; but _you_ certainly will, unless you put on some -more clothes than your nightdress." - -"Well," said Henny-penny after a pause, "I suppose I may as well rig -myself out. I feel somehow as though there was going to be a bit of -fun again--only _what_ an ugly uniform they do wear in this school, -Goldilocks! I had glorious hair, much handsomer than yours. It was the -colour of the sunset, and they cut it all off, and pomatumed it." - -"What a pity!" said Nurse Annie; "but it will grow again, my dear." - -"Did you really say 'what a pity!'? Then I _quite_ like you. I'll dress -like a flash of greased lightning. It doesn't matter about washing, -does it? For I know I'll be crying most of the day." - -"Now, my dear, you won't be so silly, for it will be bad for your -sister." - -"Oh, Daisy, she's as good as gone," said Henrietta. "She was taken -sudden, like poor mumsie. She was a nice little thing, and the _imp_ of -mischief. Pinchin and Dawson and the barber killed her. Whatever you -may say about the woman called Faithful, she had a hand in that pie." - -"Dress yourself now and stop talking," said Nurse Annie. "There is -plenty of cold water in that jug and you really _must_ wash, for your -face is such a show." - -"To be sure now, is it, at all, at all? I don't like being a holy show. -People like me best when I am pretty. Mumsie used to say I was a very -handsome girl." - -"You are quite decent-looking now," said the nurse, "if only you -wouldn't talk so much, and would begin your washing and dressing before -the doctor arrives. As to your sister, she is no more dead than I am. -See, her eyes are wide open; she is looking at you. She only fainted, -poor little dear." - -"Oh, get out of my way; let me hug her," said Henny. -"Daisy--_Dysy--give me your answer do_!" - -"Young lady, you are not to go near your sister. She is much too weak." - -Daisy certainly gave a very weak, wondering smile. - -"Where am I?" she said. "Who is this? Oh, I'm not good, so it can't be -heaven. Where am I?" - -"Have this wee sip of brandy and water, my dear," said Nurse Annie. She -combed out the girl's stiff locks, stiff from the effects of the odious -pomatum. - -Henrietta started for a minute, then she dashed cold water out of a -large enamel jug into a large enamel basin, and proceeded to duck her -head and face in. - -"The horrid stuff won't come off," she said. - -"I'll get it off for you presently, if you are a good girl," said Nurse -Annie. "Now get on with your dressing." - -Henrietta flew into her hideous clothes. In less than a quarter of -an hour there came a tap at the Chamber of Penitence, and a grave, -elderly woman, whom Nurse Annie addressed as Dinah, laid a tray full of -all kinds of good things on the dressing-table. - -Here was coffee worth drinking; here were rolls and new-laid eggs, -butter, and cream and jam. - -Henny fell upon the food like a little wolf. Nurse Annie tried to coax -Daisy to eat, but she only shook her weak little head and rejected all -offers of nourishment. - -Henny felt wonderfully refreshed by the time Dr. Halsted arrived. He -was a young-looking man of between thirty and forty years of age. -He had keen, grey eyes, a clever, clean-shaven face, and dark hair -cut very short and mixed with grey. He did not take the least notice -of Henny, but devoted himself to Daisy. He examined the girl most -carefully, took her temperature, felt her pulse, did all the usual -things, then said she was suffering from shock and must be sent -immediately into the school hospital or infirmary, which at that time -happened to be empty. Nurse Annie must look after her day and night -until he got a second nurse to relieve her. He would send one in as -soon as possible. - -Nurse Annie knew her post too well to trouble the doctor with -questions, and his own directions were extremely simple. The girl was -to be kept absolutely quiet. She was not to be allowed to talk to -anyone. He would send in a temperature chart and her temperature was -to be taken every four hours; then Dr. Halsted, without even glancing -at Henny, who thought herself attractive with her freshly washed face, -left the room and went down to speak to Mrs. Faithful. - -"That little girl is very ill," he said. "I cannot imagine what is the -matter with her. I don't apprehend anything infectious. It strikes me -she is suffering pretty considerably from what is called 'shock.' When -did she come to your admirable school, dear madam?" - -"Nearly a week ago," replied Mrs. Faithful. "Her step-father brought -both her and her sister. She certainly had been exceedingly naughty, -and I felt obliged to put her under Miss Pinchin's care. Miss Pinchin, -as a rule, manages _extremely_ naughty girls perfectly, but she has not -contrived well either for this poor child or her sister." - -"Oh, there are two of them." - -"Yes; the other has red hair. I did not wish to take the girls at all. -The one with red hair was in the room whilst you were examining your -patient. But my cousin and friend, Mr. O'Brien, begged of me to do what -I could for these girls, who are his step-daughters. I promised _on a -condition_, and am waiting anxiously to know if this condition will be -fulfilled, otherwise, as soon as ever the girl is well, she will have -to leave the school." - -"If ever she _gets_ well," said Dr. Halsted. - -"Oh, doctor, you don't think so badly of her as all that?" - -"But I do. To start with, she has little or no constitution, and, -whatever naughtiness she has committed, she has deliberately starved -herself. I'm afraid your governess-assistant was too severe. Of course -I'll do my best for the girl, and come again in the middle of the -day. By the way, I must send in another nurse--two if you like--for -she is likely to be highly delirious. Meanwhile Nurse Annie will look -after her. She cannot be moved into the infirmary until a good fire is -lighted and the room made fresh and snug. That was not a nice bedroom -she and her sister were in. I propose to change everything. Your -infirmary is always charming. Have a few flowers about, but not those -that smell. Put the bed so that she can see out of the window if she -feels inclined, and have soft green blinds, which I know you possess, -put up to all the windows in the room. I by no means give up _hope_, -Mrs. Faithful, but the case is very serious." - -The doctor went on his way and in that house of absolute order, -of absolute peace, there was, for the time at least, considerable -excitement. - -Poor Miss Pinchin cried her small beady eyes out of her head. Dawson -felt thoroughly offended, but Mrs. Faithful was the sort of woman who, -when she took the reins, took them with a will. How she did long for -the little girl the Rector had spoken of! The week was very nearly up, -and she had not had a line. Still she had great faith in the Rector, -and was certain Maureen would come, or a message would arrive, before -the week was quite up. Then she ordered her servants. She set her -schoolgirls to their tasks, and with her own hands helped to get the -Infirmary into absolute order. - -She also had a fire lit in the Chamber of Peace, that room which she so -hoped Maureen would occupy. - -The Infirmary was soon quite ready. It was a spacious apartment, with -no ornaments of any kind, and a highly polished floor. A little white -bed was arranged near the window with the prettiest view, but all the -windows now on this hot day were rendered cool and soothing by soft -green blinds. Then Daisy was most carefully wrapped up and carried -into the Infirmary. The poor child was absolutely unconscious. Henny -followed her, sobbing loudly. - -"Henrietta, dear," said Mrs. Faithful, "I cannot allow you to stay with -your sister while you make this distressing noise; and whatever have -they done to your head, my child?" - -"It was that _beast_ of a Pinchin," said Henrietta. "She ordered the -barber woman to put a sort of glue on my head, so that I shouldn't have -any curls." - -"Poor little girl; but we can soon set that right. You see Nurse Annie -has already got your sister's hair into a little order. How we will -attend to yours. I think, dear, Miss Pinchin overstepped her duties; -but I must not complain. She meant well. That special pomatum is hardly -_ever_ used, although I wish some of my naughtiest girls to have their -hair short." - -"And am I one of your naughtiest?" - -"Oh yes, Henrietta, quite." - -"And Daisy?" - -"Poor Daisy; we won't talk of her now. Come! you would like to get your -curls back." - -If Henrietta had a passion in this world, it was for her red curls, and -even short curls were better than none at all. Mrs. Faithful put the -girl into the care of the same kind-looking woman who had brought up -her breakfast. - -"Dinah," she said, "do what you can for Miss Henrietta. Get all that -sticky stuff out of her hair, and keep her with you afterwards, Dinah. -I shall have a little room prepared for her to-night to sleep in next -my own." - -"The Chamber of Love, madam?" - -"Yes, Dinah, that is the room." - -"Well, of all the wonderful things," muttered Dinah. "Come, Henrietta." - -So Henrietta went obediently, and the sticky stuff was removed from her -hair, which, released from its bondage, curled and fuzzed all over her -head. - -She looked at herself in the glass, and instantly skipped and danced -for joy. - -"Hurrah, hurrah," she said. "Dinah, old duck, I _must_ hug you." - -Dinah was decidedly prim and a Quaker. She said, "Thee wilt keep thy -praises and thy embraces for those who require them. For me, I like not -to be embraced." - -"Oh, what a horrid house," said Henrietta, "but anyhow I've got my -curls back. Now, Dinah, I won't hug you if you don't like it; but can I -see Pinchin? I'm just dying to smack her." - -"My dear, control those evil feelings. Joan Pinchin has been sorely -tried, and has gone away for a week's holiday. Now, thee wilt be a good -maid and follow me to my room, where I employ my time in making the -school uniforms. Thou and I will dine there together. I have ordered a -refreshing and serviceable meal." - -"Upon my word, I _am_ peckish," said Henny. "I'll gobble, I can tell -you." - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -A FAILURE. - - -There are seasons that come into the lives of all people which are full -of perplexity, of doubt, of difficulty. Such a time came now to that -most admirable woman, Jane Faithful. She was dismayed. She wondered if -she had been over-boastful about her little school; if she had acted -rightly towards the children who were committed to her care. It is -true she had from the very first strongly objected to the arrival of -Henrietta and Daisy. They, she considered, had stepped a little beyond -the bounds. Before now she had restored troublesome, obstinate, idle -girls to their parents or guardians with completely changed characters. -These girls were no longer troublesome and wilful; they were no longer -idle and defiant. But the Mostyns had gone far beyond these ordinary -kinds of naughtinesses, and Mrs. Faithful honestly did _not_ wish for -them. She said so plainly to the Rector, but the Rector had looked so -pale, so sad, so ill, so terribly troubled that, because she loved him, -as all others loved that good man, she made an exception in his favour. -She would keep these wild girls _on a condition_. Maureen was to come -to her. The Rector, looking sadder and more mournful than usual, -consented to Mrs. Faithful's plan, for he did not know how to refuse. -He simply did not know what to do with his step-daughters, and he felt -that he must save them at any personal cost. - -Then, most unluckily, Mrs. Faithful, knowing nothing of their queer -characters, set to work the wrong way. There were certain rooms at the -top of the spacious house, which were seldom, indeed hardly ever, used. -They were rooms of extreme punishment and a special sort of dress was -required to be worn by the girls who occupied these rooms. - -Mrs. Faithful determined, very wrongly as it turned out, to put the -obstreperous girls there until Maureen O'Brien arrived. They would be -under the special care of Dawson, a most faithful Scotswoman and an old -servant in the school, and of Miss Joan Pinchin. - -Now Mrs. Faithful, knowing that Miss Pinchin had treated naughty and -unmanageable girls before in a truly excellent manner and had soon -in fact effectually brought them round to the laws of discipline and -goodness, never imagined that Miss Pinchin, contrary to her wont, would -treat this pair of rebels with extreme and unnecessary severity, and -that Dawson, faithful Dawson, would take a violent dislike to them -when she saw them. When the girls were put into Miss Pinchin's care, -she made a request. It was this: would Mrs. Faithful allow her, Joan -Pinchin, to have the entire care of the Irish girls for the first -week? She even ventured the request that Mrs. Faithful should not see -them during this short time. - -"I can manage them," she said. "I am certain I can manage them, but -I can do it more easily if no one interferes with me. Believe me, -dear Mrs. Faithful, that the Mostyns will be removed from the Hall -of Discipline to the cheerful Hall of Contrition on the next floor -before the week is up. Soon after that they will have opportunities of -mingling with their fellow-students." - -"Remember," said Mrs. Faithful, "I wish for no harshness. The girls are -like wild, unbroken colts, and must be treated accordingly. Gentleness, -dear Joan, and all kindness that is possible. Remember, I trust you." - -"You may, you may," said Miss Pinchin. - -And now all might have gone well, for Miss Pinchin had most assuredly -managed very naughty girls before. Her scheme in the plan of the -school was to manage naughty girls. But it so happened with regard to -the Mostyns that this admirable woman lost her temper completely over -Henrietta and Daisy. The moment this happened she also lost her power -over them. They openly rebelled. They jeered at her to her face. Daisy -mimicked her to the life. Henny screamed and choked with laughter. The -poor governess was reduced to despair; but she would not, she could -not, give in. - -She tried measures more and more severe, and more and more openly did -the girls defy her, until at last there came that climax which has been -described in the last chapter. - -Daisy Mostyn might best be described as an imp or a minx. There was -no doubt whatever that her character was most daring. She made up her -mind to refuse her food; she also made up her mind, if Miss Pinchin had -recourse to the cane again, to snatch it from the governess herself and -try it on her very thin person. What a glorious uproar that would make. - -She confided her plan to Henrietta, and Henrietta applauded. - -"I'll help ye, acushla mavourneen," she cried. "Lawk a massy me, what a -fuss there'll be when Pinchin is under the rod." - -But alas for the wildest and naughtiest preparations, Daisy, although -she had a queer strength of character, in a very naughty direction, it -is true, was sadly weak in body. Her starvation did not suit her. - -On retiring to rest the night before she intended to begin her -persecution of Pinchin, she turned most deadly sick. Henrietta thought -nothing of this, and pulled her out of bed in the morning. The sequel -has been told. - -Daisy was very ill indeed--quite delirious. She talked incessantly -of Fly-away, of the medicine glass and the laudanum bottle. She also -talked of the dark lantern. She chattered unceasingly. Her little -white face looked whiter and more pinched each moment; her small eyes -more dazzlingly bright, and as the day advanced to its close, her wild -mutterings became incoherent. Dr. Halsted was seriously alarmed about -her, and two nurses were appointed to take charge of the sick girl. - -Towards evening there came a short and refreshing telegram from Maureen -O'Brien to Mrs. Faithful: "Expect me the morning after next.--Maureen -O'Brien." - -"Little dear--oh, how welcome she will be," thought the harassed -mistress. - -She got everything in readiness for the girl. She sent for Henrietta -and told her the good news. - -"What! _That_ brat coming here," said Henrietta. "I'm sure I don't want -her. It was because of herself, no less, that all this trouble came." - -"Henrietta," said Mrs. Faithful, "do you mean deliberately to go on -with your wicked ways?" - -"Oh yes, I quite mean to," said Henrietta. - -"Are you aware that your sister is dangerously ill?" - -Henrietta stared for a minute. - -"I like my hair fuzzy-wuzzy," she said, and she rumpled it up with -both her hands, then stood with her arms akimbo, looking hard at Jane -Faithful. "I have the promise of becoming a handsome woman, haven't I?" -she continued. - -"Oh, Henrietta," said poor Mrs. Faithful, "when you talk like this at -such a moment, you break my heart." - -Henrietta continued to stare very hard. - -"I can't cry about '_Dysy--give me your answer, do_,'" she remarked, -"but somehow I don't mind old Dinah with her 'thees' and her 'thous.' -Of course, I said from the first that Dysy would hop out. She was -always a delicate little thing. We used to fuss about her a lot when we -were in a proper school. Then poor mumsie broke her neck. We never saw -mumsie after she married the Rector, so naturally we didn't much mind; -but we did mind the loss of our fortune. It was an awful blow to us. It -was beastly unfair; don't you think so, Mrs. Faithful?" - -"I don't think about it, child. In the Country where poor Daisy is -going money is of no account." - -"Poor old Dysy! Well, to be sure, she had lots of fun in her! I -declare, you look as though you were sorry for her." - -"I am, my child--most bitterly sorry!" - -"And are you, perhaps, a bit sorry for me?" - -"Yes, Henrietta; oh, yes." And Jane Faithful, that sternest of women, -gave way utterly and began to weep. - -Henrietta continued to stare at her, then she said in a low voice: -"Dear, goodness gracious! _What_ a fuss about nothing! _I_ don't mind -staying with Dinah. Her 'thees' and 'thous' are so funny. I take them -off like anything. I imitate her like fun, and she never answers back." - -"Henrietta, have you _any_ heart?" - -"Dunno. 'Spect I have a bit. Here's my hanky-panky. Let me wipe your -tears. I don't like to see you crying for _us_." - -"If you are not sorry for your sister and yourself, will you at least -be sorry for me?" said Mrs. Faithful. - -"What earthly good will that do you?" - -"But can you try to be sorry for me?" - -"Well, I never! Yes, I'll try. You don't look at all pretty when you -sob, you know. There, now, I have wiped away your tears. I think you -have a dear old face, after all. If only I could manage to smack -Pinchin, I might learn to love you." - -"Come, Henrietta, we have had enough of this. You look sadly tired, my -little girl. Dinah will take you to your bedroom." - -"Oh, I say, must I sleep alone in the Room of Penitence? I'll be -dreaming of Dysy all night." - -"No; there is another room got ready for you." - -Henrietta remained quite silent while Mrs. Faithful got up and rang the -bell in a peculiar way. She had a method of her own for calling the -special people she required to come to her. - -Dinah now entered the room. Dinah smiled quite benignly upon Henrietta. - -"Thy hair is in a mop," she said. "Curly hair is what we in our Body -call a Desecration." - -"Oh Dinah, honey, how can I help it when God gave it to me!" - -"Don't scold her now, Dinah," said Mrs. Faithful. "Be very gentle with -her. I am relieved to tell you that Miss Maureen O'Brien is coming. She -is the daughter of that dear Mr. Maurice O'Brien whom we all so loved." - -"Ah, indeed, and we truly loved him!" said Dinah. "Thou art wearing -thyself out, dear Jane Faithful." - -"I am sad and anxious," said Jane Faithful. - -"Might I take the liberty of returning to thee, Jane Faithful, when -this little perverse one is safe in her bed?" - -"Yes, Dinah, I shall welcome you." - -"Come, Henrietta," said Dinah. She held out her hand. - -Henrietta went away with her at once. She did not wait to say -good-night to Mrs. Faithful. She forgot Mrs. Faithful in the presence -of Dinah. - -"Why dost thou call me Henrietta?" she inquired. "Dost thou not know -that thou art taking a _great_ liberty? For I--I am a lady with a -fortune, although it is but a small one, and thou art only a poor -serving maid." - -"In our community," replied Dinah, "we never call anyone except by the -baptismal name. There is no Mrs., no Miss, no Mr. in _our_ community. -Now come; I have something nice for thy supper." - -"Feel my tummy-tum," said Henrietta. "It is ever so empty. I hope -thy supper will prove to be a true supper, large in quantity, rich in -quality, and fit for a Christian maid." - -"But, my dear, thou art not a _Christian_ maid. Nevertheless, thy -supper is sufficient. Come now to my room and eat." - -Henrietta went. The supper was of the very best: Green peas, roast -duck, new potatoes, a glass of milk, and some stewed peaches. - -"Upon my word," said Henrietta, "I like thy calm ways, Dinah. I, -too, will become a Quaker and say 'thee' and 'thou,' not because of -spiritual guidance, but because the Quakers nourish their little -tum-tums so well." - -"Henrietta, thou must not speak like that." - -"Dinah, thou art not to scold me. The woman here, called Faithful, -said I was to be dealt gently with. Dost thou know, dear Dinah, that a -dreadful trouble is coming on me?" - -"Indeed, I fear it," said Dinah. - -"Oh, I don't mean about Dysy--poor little snippet! I mean something far -worse." - -"I fail to understand thee," replied Dinah. - -"I will whisper it to thee, Dinah. My _direst_, _darkest_, most -_fearful_ enemy is coming on the scene--she whom I hate. Couldst thou -not hide me from her?" - -"What dost thou mean, Henrietta?" - -"The one they call Maureen is coming. She is coming very soon, the day -after to-morrow--quite early." - -Dinah was silent. - -"Couldst thou not hide me from her, dear Dinah?" - -"Dost thou mean the young daughter of Maurice O'Brien of blessed -memory? Ah, but to look into _his_ eyes was to look into the Joy of -Life, and the Peace of Heaven combined. It is impossible for thee, -Henrietta, to hate that blessed child." - -"And wilt thou also join the band of her worshippers?" asked Henrietta. - -"I only worship the Lord my God, and Him only do I serve." - -"Then thou wilt hate her?" - -"Hate?" said Dinah. "I know not the word." - -"Ah, but I can teach it to thee. It is so jolly nice to hate." - -"Henrietta, it is far, far nicer to _love_. Now thou hast consumed this -large meal and much work awaits me. I will take thee to thy chamber and -see thee into bed, poor little one!" - -"Thou hast a sweet voice, Dinah. It is such a pity that thou canst -not hate. Well, I will do it for us both, and then it will be jolly -fearsome." - -Dinah made no remark, but, taking Henrietta's hand, led her to the -Chamber of Love. - -"Is it here I am to sleep?" said the girl. "Why, how pretty! Wilt thou -lie beside me on this bed, Dinah? Why, the walls are all pale blue -like the sky; even the bed is blue. Why am I put here?" - -"Because of Love," said Dinah. "See what is written on the door; and -commune well with thine own heart, before the Angel of Sleep visits -thee. Can one who _hates_ have sweet dreams in this Chamber where Love -dwells?" - -"Then I hate the room; I won't stay in it," said Henrietta. - -"Dear little girl, wilt thou not for my sake?" - -"I'd do a great deal for thee," said Henny, "only I wish those words -weren't written over the door." For reply, to the unbounded amazement -of Henrietta, Dinah fell on her knees; she folded her soft, white hands -and raised her gentle, dovelike eyes so that they looked out, as from a -summer sky. Henrietta longed to fly from the room, but the sight of the -kneeling woman restrained her. - -After an interval of profound silence, the woman began to speak: "Lord, -Thou art here! Come close, Lord, close, and fold--yes, fold--this -little tempestuous being in Thy embrace! Lord, have mercy, have -pity----" - -She suddenly stopped, for there came a resounding smack on her cheek. - -"Stay here, Quaker woman!" said Henrietta. "This room is not fit for -me. I am going out!" - -Before poor Dinah could rise from her knees, Henrietta had dashed away, -had flown down the quiet, orderly house and out into the soft, summer -night. She ran fast, as though furies were pursuing her. She soon left -the precincts of Felicity and still ran on and on, with panting breath, -cheeks on fire, and a little rumpled head of fiery hair. - -She saw a wood in the distance, and got into it. The dew lay heavy on -the grass--oh, how cool, how delicious! She flung herself on the grass -and fell sound asleep. - -Poor distracted Dinah came down in a state of anything but peace to -Mrs. Faithful. - -"She's gone, m'm." - -"Gone! Who? Which?" - -"I don't know anything about Daisy, Jane Faithful. It's Henrietta. -She's very queer, and when I tried to comfort her and offered up a -few words of prayer, directed assuredly by the Blessed Spirit, she -smacked me on the cheek. Not that I mind that--thou knowest it is but a -trifle--but before I could stop her, she had flown, I know not where. -She was quite tractable until I took her to her beautiful bedroom, and -then the name sent her wild. I'm afraid we shall have trouble with her, -dear Jane Faithful." - -"Dinah," said Mrs. Faithful, "do you think she has gone out?" - -"I apprehend that she has done so," said Dinah. - -"In that case, Dinah, you and I will go and seek for her. We will go -alone, for she cannot have gone very far." - -Mrs. Faithful and Dinah found Henrietta sound asleep on the wet grass -in the wood nearest to Felicity. She was dragged to her feet, and the -two women brought her back. - -The remainder of that night she slept warm and snug in the arms of -Dinah. - -"Thou art a good sort, Dinah," was her last remark, as she dropped off -into the land of dreams. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -THE BRIGHT SIDE OF THE SCHOOL. - - -Mrs. Faithful had never before, in the whole course of her long years -as a school-mistress, pronounced herself a failure, but on this -occasion she did. She was an essentially honest woman. She told her -girls the truth, and what was far more to the point, she told _herself_ -the truth. She took her character, so to speak, to pieces, and -wondered, as she did on the present occasion, where she could possibly -have gone wrong. - -The two girls left in her charge were naughty girls--_very_ naughty -girls--but then she had had naughty girls before. Of course, these were -undoubtedly worse, more defiant in their characters, than any of the -various maidens who had visited Felicity and had gone through its stern -and yet withal its beneficial training; for the school was, as a matter -of fact, divided into two parts. There were the girls who needed sharp -correction, who required individual and most anxious care, and there -were the girls who, having successfully and victoriously passed this -ordeal, had entered the happy and bright portion of the school. - -Here indeed, as far as the East is from the West, all things were -different; here, in those lovely rooms called Faith, Hope, Charity, -Joy, were laughter and mirth, were games and all pleasantness. There -was an intermediate room called Patience. In this room the girls as a -rule remained under a very diluted form of discipline for two or even -perhaps three months. During this time their hair was allowed to grow, -and their uniform was changed from dull grey and white to pale blue and -white. - -When they entered the happy rooms above mentioned, they were altogether -different from those most unhappy girls who went through Penitence and -Discipline. There was no enjoyment denied to them, as long as they were -good and obedient. Obedience was required, discipline was maintained, -but over all the Sun of Love and Kindness shone. - -In the summer they romped in the gardens and the paddocks. They forgot -the dismal, the awful period when Penitence and Discipline were their -portion. All went well with them, and Mrs. Faithful loved these pupils -dearly. She sent them back by-and-by to their homes completely changed -characters, earnest in their efforts, willing and anxious to work, with -a great deal of vanity and self-conceit, the ruin of so many girls, -completely knocked out of them. - -Poor Miss Pinchin, as she was called--except by Dinah, who called her -Joan--had the painful charge of the first breaking in of these young, -wild creatures. Mrs. Faithful considered her an admirable woman for -the purpose. How was it that she so signally and completely failed with -Henrietta and Daisy? - -Daisy was lying most dangerously ill. Henrietta was unmanageable. -Maureen was expected. She might arrive at any moment. She had said in -her telegram that she would come early, and the day of her arrival had -dawned. - -Mrs. Faithful felt terribly unhappy; she knew that if Daisy got worse, -it would be her duty to wire to the Reverend Patrick O'Brien to beg of -him to come immediately to see his step-daughter. Her keen eyes had -perceived at a glance how ill her kinsman looked. She knew also that -he did not really love these girls, who were not his own. She bitterly -regretted now having yielded to her softer nature, and taken the girls -into the school at all. - -Well, she had done it _on a condition_, and the condition was agreed -to. Maureen O'Brien was coming. This fact alone would have given -the poor lady untold delight, but for Henrietta's intemperate and -extraordinary remarks about her. She feared that Henrietta would -torment the child, so high-minded and noble in nature. She resolved, -however, on an expedient which she trusted might save her. - -Maureen, whatever happened, must _not_ be unhappy. She was not coming -to the school as a pupil, but as a guest; Mrs. Faithful therefore -resolved to have prayers half an hour earlier than usual that morning -and then to give a short address to the girls--those girls who had -passed through the worst stage of discipline and were thoroughly -enjoying themselves at the school. - -Amongst these was one called Margaret Devereux. There was also -another--Evelyn Ross. They were cousins, and had been at first most -troublesome, most defiant, most disobedient. They had now been four -years at Felicity, and no one would recognise them for the little -uncared-for wild imps whom their unhappy fathers had brought to the -school, begging Jane Faithful to do what she could for them. - -Jane Faithful, aided by her staff of teachers, did her best, and -sweeter, brighter girls than Margaret Devereux and Evelyn Ross it would -be difficult to find. They were neither of them exactly beautiful, but -there was a wonderful look of strength about them, like those who have -met Apollyon in the Valley of the Shadow--and have come out on the -other side. All the other girls were of varied intensity of character. - -The remarkable thing about all these girls was that they _had_ -characters, that there was nothing small about them. It was impossible -to reach the Halls of Faith, Hope, and Joy without having passed -through Conflict. This expression is seldom seen on a young face, but -when it is there, it has a specially ennobling effect. - -Mrs. Faithful thought that a great deal might be done for Maureen by -means of Margaret and Evelyn, but she wanted all her band of bright -girls, all those who had passed through the Valley, to be kind and -interested in the newcomer. She therefore spoke about her very simply. - -"I have a few words to say to you, girls," began the headmistress. -They were all in white on this summer morning, and as they were just -preparing to go into the large schoolroom to begin their accustomed -work, they paused and turned in some astonishment. Margaret, in -especial, clasped the hand of Evelyn Ross and squeezed it. - -Now Evelyn and Margaret four years ago used to be the direst foes. -They were members of one household, but they could not live happily -together or with anyone else; hence the chief reason for their arrival -at Felicity. - -"My dears," said Mrs. Faithful, who observed this affectionate -clasp, "I have some pleasant news for you all. I am expecting almost -immediately a young visitor. She is, I believe, fifteen years of age, -but although tall looks much younger than her years. I have heard of -her, but have not seen her. She will not be a pupil unless indeed she -wishes to join any special class. She will sleep in the Chamber of -Peace, and I want you, Margaret, and you, Evelyn, as my head girls, -to take special care of her, and to do all in your power to make her -happy. She has, I believe, a specially fine character which may be -partly accounted for by her birth, for she belongs to mixed races, -being French on her mother's side and Irish on her father's. Her name -is Maureen, her surname is O'Brien. Maureen, as perhaps you know, is -the Irish for Mary. She is greatly beloved by her uncle, and as far -as I can tell by most of those who know her. There is, however, an -exception, and I want you, Margaret, and you, Evelyn, to guard Maureen -O'Brien against that exception. You have not yet been introduced to -Henrietta Mostyn. Alas, alas! poor girl! It will, I greatly fear, be -some time before you make her acquaintance. She has lived in the same -house with Maureen, and cordially _hates_ her--I _fear_ because she is -good. How you know what an awful thing hatred is. We have banished it, -I hope, from the greater part of Felicity." - -"We have--we have," said Margaret and Evelyn. - -"I therefore ask you, my dear children," continued the headmistress, -"to be particularly good to Maureen O'Brien. She comes of a noble -stock. I wish you could have seen her father, Major O'Brien. He -belonged indeed to those gifted ones whom the Lord has blessed. He was -a soldier in the truest sense of the word. He died from the effects of -a wound in battle, when Maureen was a very little child. Her mother -had died before him. Major O'Brien died in saving a fellow-soldier who -was in desperate straits. He dragged him away from the range of the -enemies' guns. For this splendid action he got his V. C., and, although -he died of his wounds later on, he truly died covered with glory. Now, -my children, will you help me with regard to Maureen if she requires -your help?" - -"We will--we will!" said one and all. - -"We should love to!" cried Margaret. - -"We just adore her already," remarked Evelyn. - -At that moment the sound of wheels was heard approaching on the winding -gravel sweep. - -"She has come," said Mrs. Faithful. "Go to your lessons, girls; you -will meet her at early dinner." - -The girls went away, filled with the keenest excitement. Mrs. Faithful -had struck the right note. Patriotism and the love of country were in -their blood. Maureen, in their eyes, was a heroine before they saw her. - -Mrs. Faithful had been quite sure she had done right as she went into -the centre of the hall, where Dominic and Maureen were standing. - -The boy held out his hand; the girl struggled to speak, but her face -was very white. - -"You are tired, darling," said Mrs. Faithful. - -"She is--she's beat out," said Dominic. - -"Dom--you know I'm not beat out." The clear, rather slowly pronounced -words, which were some of Maureen's peculiarities, dropped from her -pretty lips. "I've come here--indeed, I have--just to be useful and to -make _no_ trouble." - -"Ha! Ha! Naughty one--_I_ know you!" suddenly shouted a voice, and a -fiery head was poked over the staircase, and Henrietta clapped her -hands. "You make yourself useful, indeed! I like that." - -There was an evident tussle between Henrietta and a grave, sweet, -elderly woman, who was dragging her back. - -"Thou shalt not--thou shalt not!" cried the naughty girl. "She's my -enemy--she has come! Let me alone, Dinah, with thy 'thees' and thy -'thous.' _I'll_ get at her; nothing will keep me back." - -"Thee wilt come with me immediately to thy excellent breakfast," was -Dinah's response. - -"Ah, my poor tummy, it _is_ empty," exclaimed Henrietta. "Well, I'll -feed up a good lot, and get all the stronger, because of that which -lies before me. Canst thee tell me, Dinah, where old Pinchin kept her -birch-rod?" - -"I could tell thee, child, but I will not. Eat this delicious honey and -this fresh bread and good butter, and drink this rich creamy milk, and -forget that wicked thing called Hatred." - -"I'll gobble hard, thou mayst be sure," remarked Henrietta, "but thou -mayst also be sure, that NOTHING will induce me to give up my darling -hatey-hate! Fancy thee and me--two Quakers--and I doing the hatey-hate -for both. It's pretty strong, Dinah duck. Oh, Dinah, Dinah, I wish thou -wouldst _sometimes_ laugh." - -"How can one laugh with a sore, sore heart," was Dinah's response. "Ah, -Henrietta, poor babe, thou dost not guess the sorrows that await thee." - -Meanwhile Mrs. Faithful took her young guests into her own -sitting-room, where she gave them an excellent breakfast, and told -Dominic that there was a very nice hotel quite close, where he could -stay for the day if he liked, and could come and see his cousin in the -afternoon. - -"Yes, do, Dom," said Maureen. - -"I will, if you wish it, Maureen." - -"It's all settled about Uncle Pat now, so you can stay," said Maureen. - -"Then I will stay for one night," answered Dominic. "What is the name -of the hotel, Mrs. Faithful?" - -"I will send one of my men with your things there, my boy," said Jane -Faithful. "You can come back here again to dinner. We dine at two." - -"I think I will go with the man at once," said Dominic. "I am tired and -dirty. We travelled right through, and the way was long." - -"The hotel is called the Rose and Honeysuckle," said Mrs. Faithful. -"Ring that bell three times, Dominic." - -Dominic obeyed. One of the grooms appeared. He was given brief -directions, and the man and the boy started off to the Rose and -Honeysuckle, the man wheeling Dominic's little suitcase on his barrow. - -He was much taken by the Irish lad. - -"And now, please, tell me everything," said Maureen to the -headmistress. "Where are they? how are they?" - -"Oh, Maureen, my darling, you are barely in time. I have only bad news -for you--bad news! Poor little Daisy is most dangerously ill. We went -the wrong way to work with them both." - -"You tried perhaps the way of _fear_," said Maureen. - -"Yes! I am afraid we did." - -"Henrietta seems as determined as ever," said Maureen; "but what has -made Daisy so ill?" - -"It is a long story, Maureen, but I will tell it you in as few words as -possible. I know the school--and when I say the school, I speak of the -girls who have passed through their time of Penitence and Rebellion and -through Discipline and Patience, and have learnt the joys which await -those who follow _His_ Commandments. These girls, and there are many -of them in the school, will receive you, Maureen, with rejoicing. But -you look very, very tired. Had you not better come to your chamber and -sleep?" - -"I--sleep?" said Maureen. "No; I want to work." - -"But it would not be right for you to see those wild girls at present." - -"Yes, it would be quite right," said Maureen. "Please pardon me, Mrs. -Faithful, but I have come here principally to ask their forgiveness. I -did them a very terrible wrong." - -"Maureen, do I hear you aright? Your uncle said that the girl called -Daisy tried to poison your horse." - -"Yes--and I--oh I must not talk of it, except to them. I _will_ find -them--I _must_ find them. May I go to my room just for a few minutes -and wash and put on something white, and then I will go to them both." - -"I am certain, my child, the doctor will not allow you to visit Daisy." - -"Well, may I at least see the doctor when he comes?" - -"You certainly may do that. As a matter of fact, I expect him at any -moment." - -"Then I will go to my room, if you will take me." - -Mrs. Faithful conducted the girl to the Chamber of Peace. Maureen -looked round her, and her lovely eyes grew bright. - -"Oh, how exquisite," she said. "And a bath-room and all. Give me barely -ten minutes. Please remember that I must see the doctor." - -In almost less than the time mentioned a grave-looking girl in pure -white, her thick brown hair neatly arranged, her soft brown eyes full -of a sort of divine love, her lips slightly tremulous, but nevertheless -firm and sweet, stood outside the Infirmary, where Daisy Mostyn tossed -from side to side on her little bed, while the cruel fever, like a -consuming fire, burnt her slender life away. - -Dr. Halsted went in and saw the patient. He came out again shaking his -head. - -"We must have a consultant," he said to the nurse. "The symptoms are -most alarming. Why, _who_ is this young lady?" - -"I am Maureen," was the girl's quiet reply. "I want to go to Daisy--I -have known her for some time. She and I lived in the same dear home in -Ireland. There is something I want to say to her and afterwards to her -sister, Henrietta. I promise most faithfully not to make her worse. May -I go to her?" - -"Yes, child, go," said the doctor. - -He looked at the nurse and said: - -"Is that an angel or a human being? Alas, alas, I fear there is little -hope. I shall get Dr. Duncan immediately, but let that little white -angel do what she can." - -Henrietta had been peeping about. Henrietta was speechless with rage. -She set to work tearing her clothes and upsetting everything she could -in Dinah's neat room. - -Dinah, although the soul of gentleness, could be very firm when she -liked. She deliberately got a strong cord and fastened Henrietta into -a chair in such a position that, struggle as she might, she could not -move. - -She made the remark, after fastening her victim securely into the chair -of punishment, "Thee art full of mischief, and thee wilt stay here -until I choose to unfasten thee. Weep away, poor sinner; no one will -hear thee in _my_ room. Thou wouldst have killed thy sister had I not -caught thee in time." - -"But the enemy is with her--_the enemy_!" shrieked and sobbed Henrietta. - -"Dost thou indeed call that most beautiful, spiritual young creature -an enemy? Ah, well, the Lord God, He hears--the Lord God, He hearkens. -I will pray for thee, Henrietta, while thou art in thy chair of -punishment, and where thou art now, thou canst not smack me on the -cheek. I promise faithfully, and where I promise I fulfil, that thou -wilt stay in that chair until the Spirit tells me to untie thy cords." - -"Hypocrite, horror," shrieked Henrietta; but Dinah was already on -her knees, her dove-like eyes were closed, her lips were moving very -slowly--not a sound could Henrietta catch. - -She went on looking at Dinah and hurling every ugly word she could -think of at that noble and patient head. The Quakeress went on praying. -After a time there seemed to come over Henrietta a sort of awe. She -even preferred Miss Pinchin and the _rod_ to this. The silence was so -intense. The position of the praying woman, in spite of the girl's own -recklessness, was awe-inspiring. - -At last, after quite an hour, Dinah rose from her knees, her eyes wet -with tears. - -Henrietta said softly, "Take my hanky-panky--I can't get at it--and -wipe away those drops. Thou art a very pretty Quakeress. I will -certainly join thee, for thou hast a marvellous effect upon me." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE WHITE ANGEL. - - -Maureen had the calm of a really great nature. She went steadily now -and took her place by the sick girl's bedside. Daisy glanced at her for -a minute with dull and uncomprehending eyes, then she turned away with -a sort of groan. - -"She hates--hates--_hates_ me," muttered the sick child. "I did my -best to kill her horse, only I didn't mean to kill it. Upon my word, I -didn't. I meant to make it bad as I am now, but that horrid Garry came -and frightened me, and my hand shook and I couldn't put in the right -quantity of the stuff. It is awful to be hated by one like Maureen. -She is so strong--_so_ strong. I'm a poor little nobody--but she--she -crushes me down and down. It's awful, isn't it? Who are _you_?" - -A dim, very dim, glance of understanding crept into the dull eyes. - -"I," said Maureen. She spoke in her richest voice. "I am one who -indeed gave way to that awful, unholy sin of hate; but all that has -passed--has vanished. Where I hated, now I love. According to the -strength of my hatred, so is the greatness of my love." - -"Pah," said Daisy, "I expect you are one of the angels. I don't want -any of them about. I suppose that means I am going to die. But I won't -die; I won't go pop like mumsie, only I'm horrid hot. Angel, are you -cool?" - -"Yes; shall I hold your--your hand?" - -"But you are not going to take me away?" - -"No, indeed, I am not." - -"Then if you are cool, you may hold my hand. You remind me of -someone--I don't know who. A _good_ person. I do so loathe good people; -but then you are not a person at all. You are an angel. Angel, send -those nurses away and hold my hand." - -Maureen beckoned to the two women, who retired behind a screen in a -corner of the room. - -Maureen had extraordinary sympathy in her hand. Some people have that -gift, and it is very remarkable. It quiets better than any drug; it -soothes beyond any medicine which has ever yet been invented. - -The girl, who had been tossing impatiently from side to side, began, -slowly and impatiently at first, but after a time quite perceptibly, to -feel the influence of the little hand. Then the two hands were placed -over hers and she gave a deep sigh of relief. - -"I'm better, I think," she said. "I'll soon be all right again, and -ready to punch Pinchin and Maureen and all my enemies. I couldn't eat, -you know; that's why I flopped down like this. Angel, will you stay -with me?" - -"Yes." - -"And you don't hate me?" - -"I--LOVE--you." - -"You have a queer, deep voice--something like Maureen's. I say, shall -we both fight her together?" - -"We will," said Maureen. - -"Ha! Ha! that's good. Ha! Ha! Ha! Have those horrible nurses gone?" - -"They are not near you now. I command you to sleep. Close your eyes and -sleep." - -"Oh, but I do feel yawny. You wouldn't ask me to sleep if you knew what -my dreams were." - -"I can promise you will not have those dreams while I hold your hand." - -"Then I think I will have a snooze. I am getting quite comfy. Mumsie, -she broke her neck--doubled under her you know--and she left her money -to Maureen--all of it to Maureen. Poor Henny and I were beggars. I'm -getting _very_ sleepy. Maureen has all the money--she who said, '_I -hate you!_' But you are different, dear angel; you don't hate." - -"No; as she hated, so do I in a much greater degree love." - -"That's nice--I'll take a snooze. You won't mind if I keep my mouth -open and snore?" - -By the time the two doctors arrived, the girl in white with the -wonderful eyes was seated by the bedside, and the sick girl who was so -dangerously ill was in a light refreshing slumber. There were great -drops of dew on her forehead. Maureen's little hands held hers and the -power of Maureen's love was surrounding her. - -The nurses, who had listened to the conversation between the two, had -told the doctors what had occurred. They listened in untold amazement. - -Dr. Halsted said, "We will make a slight examination without waking -her, and the girl in white must stay by her side." - -It was some hours later, long past dinner-time, when Maureen slipped -out of the Infirmary and went for a moment to the Chamber of Peace. She -was, in truth, deadly tired. She felt like one who had been dragged -through a rushing torrent; she felt like one who, hitherto strong, was -now strangely weak. - -This was not to be wondered at, for she had given of the very essence -of her life to the sick girl, and before she left her she had turned -the scales for Daisy Mostyn towards this present life. - -The worst was over, the girl would live. Maureen rang her bell. -Immediately Mrs. Faithful, who had been on the watch all these hours, -came to the child. - -"Oh, my dear, wonderful little girl," she began. - -"Don't praise me, please," said Maureen. "I think she's better; I think -she'll live." - -"Yes; the doctors are quite sure she'll live, darling, and _you_ have -done it." - -"It was the least I could do," said Maureen; "but please, I should like -something to eat. I want to rest for half an hour, and then I must see -Henrietta." - -"Oh, my child, you cannot go through fresh tortures with that terrible -girl to-day." - -"But indeed, please, I must. I have come here for the sake of those -girls. May I have something--anything--sustaining. You see," continued -Maureen, "I sort of--sort of put my life into Daisy. That's why I feel -so tired. It can be done, and I did it." - -At that moment the door was opened and one of the many nice servants -appeared, carrying a tray of refreshing food for Maureen to eat. There -was also a tiny glass of invalid wine. - -"Lie on the bed, darling," said Mrs. Faithful, "and I will feed you." - -"No," said Maureen. "Dear Mrs. Faithful, be as kind to me as you like -to-night, when my task is over. But until it is over kindness might -make me break down. By the way, is Dom here?" - -"Of course he is. Would you like to see him?" - -"Not yet." - -"Then eat, dearest, eat. Don't take your glass of wine first. Eat." - -Maureen smiled faintly, but obeyed. - -The food was light and perfect. It was nourishing and easily digested. -Mrs. Faithful saw that the girl was in a very high state of excitement, -and took measures accordingly. She cut up the food into little morsels -and made Maureen eat, and then she gave her sips of the rare wine and -did all that she did do in a sort of matter of fact way, for she knew -that she had in her charge a very precious little girl and that she -must take great care of her. - -"I'm better now--quite well in fact," said Maureen when the meal had -come to an end. - -She stood up and stretched herself a little. - -"You are good to me," she said. "I can't thank you; there's no time at -present. Ask Dominic to wait for me until I want him. I shall want him, -I hope, very soon." - -"He's going to spend the day here, my love. At present he, Margaret -Devereux, and Evelyn Ross are walking in the paddock. I think they are -enjoying themselves very much." - -"You have a beautiful home," said Maureen. - -"It is a home with two sides, darling. For those who have conquered in -the fight it is a beautiful home." - -"I understand," said Maureen. "Thank you. Please, where shall I find -Henrietta?" - -"Oh, my darling, you must not go to her now. She's most troublesome and -rebellious. We are doing all we can, but _nothing_ seems to move her. -You are not in a fit state for an interview with that terrible girl." - -"Mrs. Faithful," said Maureen, "why did you send for me?" - -Mrs. Faithful was silent; she absolutely blushed under that steadfast -gaze. - -"I will tell you why," said Maureen. "Uncle Pat told you everything, -and you, wise woman that you are, knew perfectly well that you would -require my help; that it was just possible for me to accomplish what -you with all your knowledge might fail to attain. Please, I _must_ go -to Henrietta, and please, I am quite well now, and not at all tired, -and I must accomplish my work before I rest." - -"Well, child, I cannot refuse. I will ring for Dinah." - -"Dinah? What a pretty name!" - -"Yes, and she is good and strong--as good as her name. At present she -is the sole caretaker of Henrietta Mostyn. I will just prepare you for -the fact that she is a Quakeress." - -"Oh, but I love them," said Maureen, her eyes shining. - -"Here she comes then. Once she had the great privilege of helping to -nurse your father. He had a sharp attack of fever at Felicity after the -death of your dear young mother. Here she comes. Dinah, this is our -Miss Maureen." - -"Maureen O'Brien, I greet thee," said Dinah. - -Dinah was an elderly woman. She wore the old-fashioned dress of her -Order. She had a tight-fitting cap over her head, made of the softest, -finest muslin. It was tied under her chin. Her eyes were like dove's -eyes. She gave the instant impression of great peace. - -Maureen looked at her and shivered a little. Then she said: - -"Oh, I am glad to see you!" - -"And I to see thee, sweetest and best," said Dinah. - -"Dinah, take me to Henrietta." - -"But, hast thee the strength?" inquired Dinah. - -"God will give it to me, Dinah." - -"Then thou shalt assuredly come. Take my hand." - -The house of Felicity was very large and rambling, and certain rooms -were sound-proof. This was found to be necessary on account of the -outrageous conduct of some of the naughty girls when they first -arrived. Dinah, still holding Maureen's hand, stepped lightly on the -highly polished floor. Then she opened a door. There was a little dark -passage inside. She opened a second door, and Maureen suddenly heard -the wild shrieking notes of a voice which she knew but too well. - -"Dysy--Dysy--give us your answer, do! _Dysy_--_Dysy_--why, I say--get -out of this, brat!" - -"Thou wilt not speak words of this sort," said Dinah. - -"But I will, pretty Quakeress," said Henny, who was still securely -fastened in the punishment chair. "I say, where's the birch rod? Dinah, -me honey, take care of thy money; it's all botheration from bottom to -top." - -"Maureen O'Brien has come to see thee," remarked Dinah. "Thou wilt -treat her civilly." - -"I'm peckish, peckish," said Henrietta. "I don't want to see the enemy, -and I'm tied into this odious chair, so that I can't get _at_ her. I -tell thee I'm just pining to scratch her face." - -"Dinah, may I speak to Henrietta?" said Maureen. - -"Thou hast full permission," said Dinah. - -She sat down at once and went on with her eternal sewing. She had her -back slightly turned to the two girls. - -Henrietta burst into a scream of laughter. - -"I say, Goody-two-shoes, doesn't _she_ look nobby in that Quaker cap. -I'm going to be a Quaker in future, and I'll 'thee' and 'thou' thee all -out of the world. I expect I'll make a very striking Quaker. Isn't my -hair jolly fuzzy? _She_ took the glue out of it--you might rumple it up -for me a bit if you like." - -Maureen approached quite near. She laid her gentle hand on the little -fiery head, and did what Henrietta required. Henrietta made some futile -attempts to bite her, but Maureen was sharp enough to evade them. - -"Henny," she said then in her gentle voice, "I must confess something -to you." - -"Lawk-a-massy me! That sounds a bit of Yorkshire relish. -You--Goody-two-shoes--confessing forsooth! Well, go ahead. I'm in the -mood to be pleased with any trifle; so would you, if you had been tied -in this chair since early morning. It doesn't hurt a bit. It's even -fairly comfy, but I can't move my hands or arms or legs or even my head -much. Dinah, Dinah, isn't it time for thee to feed thy sister Quaker -again?" - -"Not yet, child," was Dinah's reply. - -"There," said Henny. "You see for yourself the way I'm treated, and yet -I'm fond of Dinah. I'm going to join her persuasion and will go to the -Meeting-House with her and speak when the Spirit prompts me. I have -been thinking out what my first discourse will be. It will all be about -a horrid girl called Maureen, who secured for herself a great lump of -mumsie's money. I'll show you up, Maureen. I rather guess it will be an -exciting meeting." - -"Thou must not speak of our holy Meeting-House in that fashion," said -Dinah. - -"Please, dear Dinah," suddenly interrupted Maureen, "let her say just -what she likes for the present." - -Dinah bent over her fine sewing and her lips moved in silent prayer. - -"That's how she goes on all day," said Henrietta. "Lively for me, isn't -it? Well, Miss _Hate_--_Hate_--HATE, and how do _you_ find yourself?" - -"Henrietta, I've come here to-day----" - -"Oh, I don't want humbug," said Henrietta. - -"I've come here to-day," continued Maureen, "to unsay those cruel -words. I own that I was frightfully hurt, and I gave way to great sin." - -"Ah--the little saint--she gave way to _great sin_," repeated Henrietta. - -"And God was very angry with me," continued Maureen. - -"I should think so, indeed. You looked downright _shocking_." - -"I cannot tell you of those days of misery; but the God who forgives -forgave _me_, and great, great joy came back to me. And Love--oh, most -wonderful--and Henny, of all the people whom I felt I ought to love and -help, you and Daisy came first." - -"Is Daisy going to die?" - -"No; I think she will live. I have been with her for several hours." - -"Lawk-a-massy me!" - -"Now, Henrietta, I wish to tell you that having spent the entire -morning with Daisy and being well assured that she will recover, I want -to help you, for my hatred has been turned into love--very deep. Will -you take it, dear Henny?" - -"_I_ take _your_ love? Not I! I don't want it. I like your hatred best. -I can speak better when the Spirit moves me, thinking of you as hating -me." - -"Poor Henrietta." - -"Don't pity me. I won't be pitied." - -"Very well, I won't. But I tell you what, I think you want a little -change, and do you know that Dom is here?" - -"Old Dom? I like old Dominic." - -"Well, he's here. It was he who brought me over. What I thought was -this, that you and Dominic and I could go and have tea at Dominic's -hotel--the Rose and Honeysuckle--in the town quite close. We'll have a -lovely tea and come back in the cool of the evening. Don't you think it -would be a good plan?" - -"Is it joking you're after?" said Henrietta. - -"No; I'm in earnest. Ask Dinah." - -"Oh, I'd give the world to go," said Henrietta. "Dinah, ducky of all -ducky-ducks. Thou _wilt_ say yes--thou _wilt_ unbind the bands of thy -sister and set her free." - -Dinah rose very slowly. - -"On a condition, I will do this thing," she remarked. - -"What is that?" - -"That thou dost not once raise the hand of spite against this dear -lady." - -"But I may feel it, I suppose." - -"God help thee, poor child. Wilt thou never see the beautiful light?" - -"I'm sure I'm staring at it when I look at thee," said Henrietta. - -"I fear to loosen thee," remarked Dinah. - -She sat down again in her chair. - -Maureen felt puzzled. She seemed to have said everything, and -exhaustion was again stealing over her. Suddenly, however, she was -startled by a great cry. - -"Dinah, Dinah, I'll be good. I'll not raise the hand of spite. I must -go out with Maureen and with Dominic; I must _gorge_ at the Hotel." - -"First thou wilt say these words after me: 'I love Maureen O'Brien.'" - -"But I don't," said Henrietta. - -Dinah resumed her sewing. Another half hour passed. - -"Dinah, ducksie, I will _not_ smack Maureen. Dinah, I--I _love_ -Maureen." - -"Is that true?" asked Dinah. - -"Yes; I've been wrestling in the Spirit--it is true." - -"Then I will unfasten thee. But Maureen O'Brien, I will come with thee -on this walk, and enter that inn called the Rose and Honeysuckle, for I -do not consider it safe to send thee alone with this maiden." - -"I don't mind having _thee_, Dinah," said Henrietta in a meek voice. -"Come along, unfasten the cords; set me free--set me free. Oh, jolly! -Oh, golloptious! Oh, my poor leg--it has got the cramp--and my arm! Let -me walk up and down the room, Dinah, leaning on thee." - -"Dinah," said Maureen, "is there not a prettier frock she could wear?" - -"It is against the rules," said Dinah; "but everything appears to be -against the rules to-day. I have just finished a little blue muslin -robe with a pale blue ground covered with forget-me-nots, and there is -a hat with a wreath of forget-me-nots, which she can wear on this great -occasion." - -"Oh, golloptious!" cried Henny. "Let me get into the frock! Why, I am a -_darling_ Fuzzy-wuzzy. Look at my hair, Maureen. Don't you envy it like -anything?" - -"You must be quick," said Maureen. "The dress is very pretty." - -She helped Dinah to get Henrietta into the blue dress. The little hat, -on the top of the tangle of red hair, was really becoming. Then the -Quaker woman put on her own long gray cloak and her Quaker bonnet, and -promised to meet Maureen with Henrietta outside the grounds in ten -minutes' time. There Dominic and Maureen did meet Henrietta and her -companion. - -Dominic gave Henrietta one of his straight glances. - -"I'm good, Dommy," she said, "and I love Maureen like _anything_; but -oh, I _am_ so peckish. How soon can we get a good spanking feed?" - -"I expect before long," said Dominic. "Don't lean on me, Henrietta. I -have no doubt that good lady will offer you her arm if you require it, -and I must help Maureen." - -Thus they started off and reached the Rose and Honeysuckle. Henrietta -mightily enjoyed the good things set before her, and fixed her bold, -blue eyes on each individual who came into the coffee-room. - -Having at last satisfied even _her_ appetite, she tried the dodge of -whispering to Dominic, but Dominic said aloud, "Whispering is not good -form," then turned and spoke to Maureen. - -He spoke in a low, confidential voice to his dear little cousin, and -Henrietta's fiery temper assumed the colour of her hair. The Quaker -woman was, however, watching her. But she herself was unaware of this -fact. - -Suddenly she sprang from her seat, and pulling Maureen towards her gave -her several violent kisses on her lips, forehead, and cheeks. At the -same time she managed to tangle the table-cloth round Maureen's little -feet, so that when the party rose to go Maureen was the last to leave -the table. She did not know what Henny had so cleverly contrived to do, -but the entire contents of the tea-service were scattered in hopeless -confusion on the floor. Cups and saucers were smashed, so was the -old-fashioned slop bowl, and so was the cream jug and cake plates. - -But not only did all this mischief occur, but the tea from the large -metal teapot was spread all over the damask table-cloth, and a part of -the liquid mess lay also on the neat carpet. Even worse was to follow, -for Henny pretended that she liked her tea weak, and a small brass urn -full of boiling water shared in the general ruin; it had a spirit lamp -beneath, and Maureen in trying to save it, and to put the lamp out, -burnt and scalded her hand and arm rather badly. The pain made her turn -faint and sick for a moment, but she quickly recovered herself. - -Henrietta, who saw everything, was in wild spirits. - -"For such a _very_ good colleen, you were awkward, Maureen mavourneen," -she cried. "Hurrah! _I_ can't help it. A pretty sum you will have to -pay; but that seems fair enough, for it will be out of poor Mumsie's -money." - -Maureen took no notice of Henny's words, but said something in a low -tone to Dominic. The boy and girl between them spoke to the waiter, and -made up for the damage inflicted. - -"Thou and I will walk quietly home together, Henrietta," said Dinah. - -"I don't want to; I want to walk with Dom," said the girl. - -"Thou wilt walk with _me_; Dominic and Maureen, precede us, please. I -have words to say to this young maid." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE WOUNDED HAND AND ARM. - - -The moment the boy and girl, Maureen and Dominic, found themselves -alone, to Maureen's surprise, Dominic lagged back and said a word to -Dinah. She raised her delicate arched brows in pain and astonishment, -then nodded her head and walked quickly to Felicity with Henrietta. - -"Where are you going, Dominic?" said Maureen. - -"That horrid scald and burn must be attended to," said the boy. "I am -going to take you immediately to Dr. Halsted to have them both dressed." - -"They do smart a little," said Maureen, "but the worst pain is over. -Oh, Dom, dearest, don't let us make a fuss now. I am so anxious to get -back to Felicity." - -"But I am not anxious to take you back," said Dominic. "Come along, -little mate, come along. This is Dr. Halsted's house." - -Maureen really did feel sick and faint. The doctor by great good luck -happened to be at home. He immediately dressed the wounded hand and arm -and inquired how the accident could have occurred. - -"It was my clumsiness," said Maureen. "I don't know how it happened, -but I must have caught my foot in the tablecloth. Oh, what's the -matter? Oh, Dominic, don't look at me like that!" - -"May my cousin lie on your sofa for a few minutes," said Dom, "and I -will explain matters to you." - -"Ah yes, that is really nice," said Maureen in a grateful tone. "But be -quick, Dom, be quick. I feel that I am wanted back at Felicity." - -The doctor and the lad left the room; the girl closed her tired eyes -gratefully. - -"The wound is very trivial," said Dr. Halsted, when he got Dominic into -another room, "but I should have thought----" - -"You wonder how it happened," interrupted Dominic. "Well, forgive me, -I'll tell you. We're Irish folks, sir, and Maureen is about the most -precious thing my father and I possess. I brought her here by Mrs. -Faithful's request, and you know what she has done for that horrid -girl, Daisy Mostyn." - -"As my patient, I cannot call her a horrid girl," said the doctor with -his grave smile, "but your cousin, as far as I can see, has saved her -life. I have just returned from Felicity, and the news with regard to -Daisy Mostyn is of the very best." - -"There is another girl at the school," said Dominic, "sister to -Daisy. That little angel, Maureen, after wearing herself out trying -to save the life of one sister, did her best for the other. The other -is not ill, except indeed in soul, so she need not come under your -professional sympathies, Dr. Halsted. My cousin, Maureen, suggested -that she and I should take Henrietta to the hotel where I am staying -and give her tea there just by way of a change. You may well suppose -that I felt rather sick, for I honestly _detest_ Henrietta Mostyn. -However, my good sir, she was all agog to come. She was not a bit -anxious about her sister. She had been put by Mrs. Faithful under the -care of a nice gentle Quakeress named Dinah." - -"I know her well," said the doctor; "she is an admirable person." - -"Well," continued Dominic, "luckily, as it happened, Dinah insisted on -coming with us. Henrietta was in her usual uproarious spirits--most -horridly unsuitable. Upon my word, sir, I felt half sick. Then, what -do you think? In the middle of the entertainment she jumped up and -contrived, without dear little Maureen noticing it, to sweep a part -of the tablecloth round Maureen's feet and legs. I was watching and -saw the whole thing and would have prevented Maureen getting up until -I disentangled the cloth, but she was too quick for me. There was -a little brass urn on the table with a spirit-lamp, and the moment -Maureen rose, everything tumbled off--the china and such like were -smashed, and she, in her efforts to put out the spirit lamp, was badly -burnt and scalded. Now, do you think, sir, that Felicity is a fit place -for my cousin?" - -"Hmm!" said the doctor. "She is badly wanted there. Upon my word, that -is an ugly story you have told me, Mr.----" - -"My name is Dominic O'Brien," said the lad. - -"Well, you had better talk to _her_, young sir. Felicity is a curious -place, and curious characters are found there from time to time. These -characters belong, not to the _insane_, but to the _uncontrolled_ of -the earth. As a rule, and I have attended at the school for many years, -my dear friend, Mrs. Faithful, has, by her admirable system, managed -to reclaim these naughty girls, and they have left Felicity with their -characters altered, and their chance of doing good work in the world -assured." - -"Thank you," said Dominic. He shook hands with the doctor, who, finding -out where he was staying, invited him to come in and have a chat with -him that evening. This the boy gratefully accepted. He then whistled -for Maureen, who came to him looking very pale, but much as usual. - -"Lean on me, _acushla machree_," said the young lad. - -They went in the direction of the school together. - -"What in the world were you talking to Dr. Halsted about?" she asked. - -"I was telling him how you got that burn." - -"But, darling Dom, that was through my awkwardness. I can't imagine how -I twisted the table-cloth round my feet." - -"You didn't twist it round, _aroon_, bless your dear little heart. It -was the act of that fiery one. I watched her when she was pretending -to kiss you. She did it very quickly and cleverly, and I was just about -to prevent your rising when you were too quick for me. Oh, dear little -Maureen, I _can't_ leave you at Felicity, I can't." - -Maureen's clear brown eyes were raised to her cousin's face, "But -indeed and truly you can, Dominic, for my _work_ is at Felicity, and -even you, and even Uncle Pat, shall not, _must_ not keep me back from -my work." - -"It's hopeless," said the lad, "quite hopeless. Oh, Maureen darling, -even you cannot do the impossible." - -"But I can, and I will," was the reply. "I mean that I shall stay at -Felicity for the present. I am glad you have explained to me about poor -Henrietta. I pity her so much." - -"She doesn't deserve a scrap of pity," said the boy. - -"Now, Dom, you are not going to put on that horrible cloak of hatred. -Oh, Dom, it is so fearful! Once, _once_ I wore it tightly round me for -some days, and I shall never forget it--never! Oh, the agony that was -in my breast! Of course, Dom, you know the old, old story of the Wind -and the Sun. There was a traveller, who was mounting up into the high -hills and the wind and the sun had a great quarrel about him and they -swore a sort of oath that they'd tear his cloak from him. 'I'll do it,' -said the Wind. 'You won't succeed,' replied the Sun; and the traveller, -knowing nothing about this, walked up, his cloak around him. Then the -Wind came out in a mighty, mighty rage, rushed at him, and tore him -and did all that Wind and Tempest could to get rid of his cloak. But -the harder the Wind blew and the sharper it stung, the closer did the -traveller fold his cloak round him. Then the Sun came out in a great -golden beam, and said, 'You have had fair play, Wind, and I haven't -interfered. Now, give _me_ a chance.' So the Wind very sulkily died -down, and the Sun poured his hot rays over the traveller, and lo, and -behold! the traveller first loosened his cloak, and then cast it off -and left it behind him on the mountain path. It was the awful Cloak -of Hatred. And, Dom, dear Dom, that was what happened to me until the -beautiful Sun of God's Love made me cast _my_ cloak of hatred away; and -never again, Dominic, will it come back." - -"Well, at any rate," said Dom, "you can't prevent _my_ staying at the -Rose and Honeysuckle for a day or so longer." - -"Oh no, I should quite love to have you." - -As the children approached the house, they saw to their surprise Mrs. -Faithful and Nurse Annie standing on the doorstep. They both of them -looked distracted. - -"Oh, Maureen, where _have_ you been?" said Mrs. Faithful; "that poor -little Daisy is worse than ever. Neither of the nurses can manage her -in the very least. She is crying out for the angel--the white angel. -Oh, my dear, dear child, how bad you look! Has anything happened? But -I can't wait to hear now. Dinah returned some time ago with Henrietta, -and Henrietta looked terribly cross. But run to your room at once, my -darling, and get into a clean white frock. Nurse Annie will help you, -and then you can go to poor Daisy. We have sent for the doctor, but you -are the best doctor of all." - -"I won't be a minute--I'll fly," said Maureen. - -She dashed up to her room, and with Nurse Annie's aid very soon looked -fresh and neat and tidy. Her long soft brown hair fell over her -shoulders. - -"I am sorry that you have to go back to her," said Nurse Annie, "for -you look just fit to drop, but you are the only one who can manage -her. Those two poor nurses are in despair. When she woke and found -you were not seated by her bedside, she began to cry out for you in -the most piteous way. 'I want the White Angel,' she said. You could -not be found--you were out--and her temperature, which had gone down -so marvellously, has gone up again higher than ever. Oh, I say, Miss -Maureen, how _have_ you hurt your hand and arm?" - -"My hand and arm were scalded through an accident," said Maureen. "They -hurt a little, but nothing to signify. I am quite ready to go to her -now." - -"Bless you, sweet child, but that dear little hand ought to be in a -sling." - -"No, no," said Maureen, "she wouldn't like that. It only smarts a -trifle." - -A minute or two later Maureen was seated by the sick girl's bed. There -was a curious, but very perceptible, change in Daisy. She had looked -ill in the morning, but now there was a wild excitement about her, and -those cheeks, generally so pale, were rosy red with the fire of fever. - -"Ah," she said with a sigh of intense relief. "White Angel, you have -come back." - -"Yes, little Daisy." - -"Hold my hand. Soothe me. Let me rest against you." - -Maureen immediately put her uninjured hand in Daisy's. - -"I want both your darling hands; one isn't enough." - -"The other--hurts a little, Daisy, and I--I'm afraid I cannot give it -to you." - -"Oh, but I _must_ have it," said Daisy, and she gave a fierce grab. - -Maureen restrained a scream of pain, then, stifling all emotion by -means of a heroism worthy of her nature, she laid both the wounded and -the whole hand on Daisy's. - -"I'm not going to die, am I?" asked Daisy. - -"Not if I can keep you alive, dear, but--Daisy, it is very beautiful in -Heaven." - -"You live there, don't you?" - -"In spirit, yes," replied Maureen. - -"Talk about it," said Daisy. "Keep on talking. Do they let naughty -girls in?" - -"Yes, undoubtedly; those who repent." - -"But I--I have been shocking bad," replied Daisy, "and even now there -is a girl whom I hate--hate--_hate_!" - -"I know the girl you mean," said Maureen. "Once I hated her myself." - -"Did you really! I didn't think angels could hate." - -"Well, I hated _her_." - -"Poor thing! It must have been awful when _you_ hated her." - -"It was very had for _me_. I don't hate her or anybody now. The other -thing is so much nicer." - -"What other thing, White Angel?" - -"Why, of course, Love--beautiful, golden Love. Suppose you and I begin -to try that glorious thing." - -"I'm very weak," said Daisy, "and hot, hot, oh, _so_ hot. Do you think, -White Angel, they would let me in at the Golden Gates, if I cease to -hate _her_, the monster they call Maureen?" - -"I think so. I'll ask the good Lord about it. You are too weak to pray. -Lean on me." - -"Oh, I will--I will! It's easy to love you, White Angel. Promise me one -thing, please. You won't leave me any more forever! You won't let me go -to sleep and then slip away." - -"If I do go away, I'll come back very soon. But I'm going to stay with -you now." - -The whole weight of Daisy's little wasted body was flung across -Maureen's wounded hand and arm. Maureen was suffering such tortures -that she wondered she didn't faint, but her very pain kept her from -this. - -Dr. Halsted in a great hurry entered the room. Daisy screamed when she -saw him. - -"Go away! Go away! I've got a White Angel curing me. Get out of this, -you old horror. Oh, hurrah, hurrah! Wherever is Henny? Not that _I_ -care. I have got the White Angel; she's worth ten thousand Hennies. -Wasn't it fun when I dropped all the laudanum into the mash, and the -horse had such beautiful eyes. He gobbled and gobbled and I--I stirred -and stirred. I don't seem to remember much else. I think I'm drowsy. -Don't you touch me, you horror. The White Angel is _my_ doctor. She is -telling me about a place called Heaven." - -"My dear child," said Dr. Halsted. He did not address the sick girl, -but Maureen. "She is lying on your wounded arm! Let me arrange you more -comfortably." - -"Don't touch her. I'll kill you if you do!" shrieked Daisy, and then -she went off into a dead faint. - -During that faint the doctor and the nurses were able to release -Maureen from her torments, but she absolutely refused to leave Daisy's -side. - -"I have promised to stay with her," said Maureen. "When she comes to -again, she will want me. Oh, Dr. Halsted, is she very ill?" - -"Yes, child, this is a most serious and unlooked-for relapse. I will -put you at this side of her, so that she can lean against the hand and -arm that are not injured. Nurses, a word with you both." - -All during that night, that long and yet short night, Maureen retained -her seat by Daisy's bedside, but although the poor girl quickly got -over her swoon, she did not recover consciousness. - -She mumbled and muttered and tossed and talked of White Angels and of -her own special White Angel, whom she loved as she had never loved -anyone before. - -The doctor stayed in the house all night, and so, for that matter, -did Dominic, and the nurses supported Maureen with food and necessary -stimulants. - -As the morning broke, and the first rays of a golden day streamed in at -one of the windows, Daisy opened her eyes wide and looked steadfastly -and long at Maureen. - -"Why--why," she said. "Stoop close to me. You are _not_ an -angel. I know you now. _You are Maureen, and I love you. I -love-you-better-than-anyone-else-in-the-whole-world._" - -With these words, uttered under great difficulty, and with long pauses -between, the queer little spirit of Daisy Mostyn seemed to pass into a -world where even _she_ could be properly trained. - -[Illustration: "Stoop close to me.... _You are Maureen, and I love -you._"--_Page 288._] - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -WHITE FLOWERS AND FORGIVENESS FOREVERMORE. - - -Maureen lay down in the Chamber of Peace and slept for long hours. It -was very nearly noon on the following day when she awoke. She was quite -refreshed, quite calm and very happy. - -"Dear little Daisy," she murmured under her breath. Mrs. Faithful -herself brought the girl a most carefully prepared breakfast. - -"You ought to stay in bed, darling," she said. "You have gone through -too much. Dominic and I both wish it." - -"I stay in bed?" said Maureen, with one of her radiant smiles. "But I'm -perfectly well, and I've got to attend to Henrietta now." - -"Oh, my child, that poor, poor girl. Do you know, Maureen, that we have -not dared to tell her." - -"I am glad," said Maureen, after a pause. "I will tell her myself in -my own way. Will you, dear Mrs. Faithful, ask Dom to collect heaps and -heaps of white flowers--all the daisies and white wild flowers he can -find and have them ready for me in a basket?" - -"Yes, dearest, yes." - -"I want to make her look beautiful before Henrietta sees her," -continued Maureen. "Have you locked the door of that room?" - -"Yes, dear; girls are not accustomed to the sight of death." - -"Will you give me the key, please?" - -Mrs. Faithful found herself obeying this extraordinary child without -a word. She not only gave her the key, but took Maureen's message to -Dominic. - -When Maureen had finished her breakfast, she washed in the delicious -hot bath which adjoined her bedroom and dressed herself in the purest -white Indian muslin. It clung in soft folds to her slim young figure. -Then, as she left the room, she encountered Dominic, who was waiting -for her in the corridor outside. He had a basket under his arm filled -with all sorts of white flowers. - -Maureen hastily produced wire and a thimble, needle, scissors and -thread, then she and Dominic went in the direction of the Infirmary. - -"I've never seen anyone dead, you know," said Dominic, pausing for an -instant before that shut door. - -"You never loved her in life, Dom, but you will love her now," said -Maureen. "She is far, far above us _all_ now. In the moment of death -that evil spirit which so tormented her passed away forever, and the -Spirit of Love came instead, and God sent one of his most beautiful -Angels and took her home, poor little Daisy!" - -"Maureen, how queerly you speak." - -"Come and see for yourself," said Maureen. "The last thing she said -before she left us was, '_I love you, Maureen, better than anyone else -in the whole world_.'" - -"Did she really?" said Dominic. - -"Now, come and see," continued Maureen. - -She unlocked the door, and the boy and girl entered the Infirmary. -All the windows were wide open. There was a sweet gentle air blowing -through the long room. A white sheet covered the head and slight figure -of the girl. - -Maureen gently removed the white sheet, and they both saw a tiny face, -a face which had never once been beautiful in life, but now looked -lovely. There was a faint smile on the lips. Daisy looked something -like a lily flower, broken at the stem. - -Maureen bent and kissed her. - -"Good-morning, darling," she said. "Now, Dom, be quick, be quick. She -is very cold, but I think somehow her spirit hears. Don't you know -those words of Mrs. Barbauld's, - - - "Say not good-night, - But in a brighter sphere, - Wish me good-morning. - - -"Now, Dom, let us cover her with flowers. Flowers everywhere--flowers -round her little head--flowers in her cold, wee hands--flowers -scattered about her. We'll make wreaths presently, you and I, but that -is enough for the present. Oh, she looks at _last_ what she was meant -to be. How, I must go to Henrietta." - -Dom and his cousin left the Infirmary; Maureen put the key into her -pocket. For one minute she knelt down in the Chamber of Peace and -prayed very earnestly, then she went slowly with a shining light in her -eyes to Dinah's room. She had forgotten about her scalded and burnt -hand and arm; she forgot everything but the task which lay before -her. She entered the room with a confident step and that beautiful -light shining in her eyes; Dinah, who of course knew, but had not told -Henrietta, was trying to occupy that young lady with some bead work. - -Henrietta said the beads were dull in colour; she only liked bright -things. The moment she saw Maureen she scowled and said, "Get away, -brat!" - -Henrietta, alas, was again placed in the punishment chair. Maureen -looked at her with infinite sadness. - -"Get away; why don't you go?" she continued. "_Dinah, me honey, take -care of thy money_; oh, Dinah, do let's get on with these beads." - -"No," said Dinah, "I will not." - -"Why not?" said Henrietta in amazement; "what ails thee, sweet maid?" - -"Naught ever ails _me_," replied Dinah. "The peace of God which passes -all understanding dwells in my heart. I know no sorrow; I feel no -fear." - -"Thou art very goody-goody," said Henrietta. "Now that this scamp has -come, can we not play Puss-in-the-corner? That will be jolly good -sport." - -"Thou wilt stay where thou art," said Dinah. "Maureen, sit here." - -She placed a little chair not far from Henny. Maureen sat down, -but only for a minute, then she rose and said in a voice which was -arresting and compelling so that even the wild girl who was tied in the -chair noticed it, "I have _something_ to tell you." - -"What a bother," said Henrietta; "is it about Daisy? Is she well enough -to come and see me? I heard yesterday that she was fine. Catch anything -doing Daisy much harm; but however did you get all your hand and arm -bandaged up? Was she scratching you? It was like her, little witch." - -"No," replied Maureen. "It was you who did that, Henrietta, when you -twisted the tablecloth round my legs. I got both scalded and burnt by -the little brass urn and the spirit lamp." - -"I told thee so," interrupted Dinah. - -"But it is nothing," said Maureen, "nothing at all! I do not feel it -indeed, Henrietta." - -"There now, I said it was nothing," said Henrietta. - -"But I want to tell you about Daisy." - -"Yes, how is the imp?" - -"Quite well. I have come to take you to her." - -"I thought she couldn't do without _me_ long. I am the only one she -ever loved, poor little bit, poor _bitteen_. If she's quite well, she -might come to me, but it would be more fun going to her." - -"Wilt thou go quietly and reverently," interrupted Dinah, "otherwise I -will not undo thy cords." - -"Why, what is the matter?" said Henrietta. "She, the brat, says she is -quite well." - -"Even so," replied Dinah; "but I must get thy answer." - -"Oh, I'll be good," said Henrietta; "I'll have _lashins_ and _lavins_ -to say to her. Poor little snippet; but what puzzles me is to know why -I should go _reverently_, and you both look queer, very queer. Is my -_Dysy_ really well?" - -"She is, most assuredly, quite well, Henrietta." - -"I will be good, then, and go to her. I have lots and lots to say to -her." - -Dinah immediately slipped the cords, which fastened the rebellious girl -into the chair. She looked with emphasis at Maureen, but Maureen would -not meet her eyes. - -As soon as ever Henrietta was free, Maureen took her hand. "Come," she -said. - -Dinah hesitated for a moment, and then resolved to follow them. They -went out of Dinah's room, Henrietta talking rapidly and loudly, Maureen -very still and calm. - -At last they reached the door of the Infirmary. Maureen took the key -out of her pocket. - -"What's the matter with you, Maureen?" said Henrietta, a little -puzzled at last. "You don't look somehow _natural_. Oh, and there is -that old Dinah following us. I shall have no fun unless I'm alone with -my Daisy. Is it true that she is really well?" - -"Yes, darling." - -"Darling! You call _me_ darling?" - -"There are two ways of getting well," said Maureen. "Little Daisy has -chosen the better way. Come at once. See how beautiful she is." - -"Daisy beautiful! You must be joking." - -Dinah took up her position outside the door. The two girls entered. - -"Henny," said Maureen suddenly, "I'm afraid you will get something of -a shock, for you will see your poor little sister as God meant her to -be. The Evil Spirit has left her, and the very last thing she said was, -'_I love you, Maureen; I love you!_' Now, look for yourself at her dear -little face." - -Quickly and deftly Maureen lifted the sheet and showed the dead girl -covered with flowers. - -Henrietta was indeed startled at last. She gave a great ringing, -piercing cry, "Why, this is never _my_ Daisy," she said. - -"Yes, yours, and mine, and _God's_!" - -"Is she--is she really dead?" said Henrietta. "I wouldn't know her. -She's awfully pretty, little snippet; but why does she smile? Is she -glad of her death? And her eyes are tight shut and her freckles are -gone, and she looks very, very white, and her hair is as fuzzy-wuzzy as -mine. Oh, it's all a joke you are playing on me! Daisy! I say, Daisy! -Wake up, wake up! See, snippet, we've a lot to do. Wake up, flower, -wake up! Here, I don't often kiss, but I'll kiss you." - -Henrietta bent and kissed the cold brow. She had never seen Death; she -had never felt the cold chill of Death. She gave one exceeding bitter -cry. - -"Oh, Maureen, Maureen," she said, "save me! Save me!" - -She clung to Maureen in frantic terror. At that moment Dinah entered -the room. - -"Dinah, look at her! She's _dead_!" - -"Yea, dear heart," replied Dinah, "the good Lord took her from the -evil to come. She passed into _His_ arms, breathing out her great and -exceeding love for _Maureen O'Brien_." - -"Then I--I will love Maureen, too," said Henrietta. "Maureen, may I? -May I?" - -"I want you to," said Maureen. "I love you. I will be your sister. I -will be your friend. Dinah, dear Dinah, may I take Henrietta into the -Chamber of Peace?" - -"Yes, thee mayst, wonderful child. Thee mayst do it for one whole hour, -and when she comes back to me, I will be exceeding gentle with her." - -But just at that moment the strangest of all strange things happened; -for little white Daisy--whom all supposed to be dead, to have passed -from this earth forever and ever--opened wide her eyes, those eyes -rendered wide and big from illness and suffering, and they saw a -sight she was never, never to forget. No less a sight than her own -Maureen--her own most blessed White Angel, supporting Henny in her -arms; and--wonder of all wonders--Henny was kissing her and crying and -saying, "As she loved you, poor snippet, why I do declare I just love -you, too. Yes, Maureen. Yes, Maureen--I love--love you, too. But look, -Maureen! Oh! look--oh! look--look! My Daisy is not dead at all!" - -Then what a startling--what an amazing commotion took place--for -Dinah would not be Dinah if she did not know what to do. She took the -overwrought and excited Henrietta out of the room, and brought Nurse -Annie on the scene; and then Dr. Halsted was summoned, and the nurses -came back once more, and Daisy slept, but no longer the sleep of death, -but the healing sleep of returning life, her thin, little hand clasped -in that of the White, White Angel. - -Yes, just when even Dr. Halsted thought she was dead, she recovered, -slowly, but also surely; and afterwards, when her weak voice could -utter the words, she whispered to Maureen, "I was in a deep, deep -dream, and a heavy and yet most restful sleep; but through the dream -and the sleep I heard poor Henny crying, and the White, White Angel -comforting her, so I _had_ to come back to _her_, and to my very own -Maureen, my _own_ Maureen." - -Thus were great relief and infinite joy experienced at Felicity; and -not only did Daisy recover, but Henny clung to Maureen, sleeping with -her night after night in a little bed in the Chamber of Peace, and -assuring her of the greatness of her own love. "Why, she _means_ me -to take care of you, poor snippet--and of course I will. You may be -certain on that point." - -Daisy got better, but Maureen really was ill for a time. Then Mr. -O'Brien, who was terribly anxious about his darling, suggested that she -should now leave the school and come with him and Dominic abroad. But -Maureen said, "I'll go nowhere without Henny and Daisy, and I think -they are best here for the present. If Daisy continues to improve, Dom -can come and take us all out to you for the Christmas holidays. Dom -will be able to leave Rugby for the purpose." - -This suggestion was finally adopted, and strange as it may seem, -Henrietta's and Daisy's characters were so much altered that even Dom -did not know them. All their dislike to Maureen was now turned to -passionate love. Daisy had grown very gentle, but Henny was still wild. - -"Why, she means _me_ to take care of you, you poor snippet," said -Henrietta. "If _she_ loves you, little dot, I am bound to do it. My -word! I should think so, poor little lone thing that you are. But -you'll have your Henny and Daisy in the future to comfort you." - -Maureen in her heart of hearts found Henny's constant and violent -embraces extremely trying, but she bore them with angelic patience, -and she and Henrietta slept together in the Chamber of Peace. - -Dinah was their constant attendant, and the school resumed its -accustomed work. Miss Pinchin was, however, requested not to return. -Mrs. Faithful, who was a rich woman, secured to her a pension for the -rest of her days, and in future, under the influence of Maureen, she -treated even the naughtiest of the new girls in a different fashion. - -Thus passed the first few months after Maureen's arrival. Henny had got -a great shock and was much improved; but she was a mass of ignorance -and required ordinary teaching. For Maureen's sake she did struggle to -work; but the only part of her work she enjoyed was the preparing of -her lessons, which she did under Maureen's care. - -"I'll always be Fuzzy-wuzzy," she said to Maureen, "although you _are_ -the darlingest old pet. I'll always be Fuzzy-wuzzy. Even that angel -of a Daisy could never turn me good like you. Besides I am not a bit -clever, and I hate lessons." - -"Well," said Maureen, "I've been thinking a great deal about you." - -"Have you, you precious duck? And where have the thoughts come from?" - -"Well, of course, you _can_ be good, if you like. We all can if we -like." - -"I'm one of those who _don't_ like," said Henrietta. - -"Well, even supposing you don't like it, you're having a grand, noble -try, both for my sake and Daisy's," said Maureen. - -"Do you really think I'm improved?" said Henrietta in amazement. - -"Of course I do. I should not know you for the same girl. But now, -look at me, Henny. Listen! I want to be downright desperately proud of -you and Daisy. I want _you_ to be the top girl of the school. Not in -cleverness--for you are not clever, darling--but in the other really -important things." - -"What do you mean?" said Henrietta. "I thought school was a hot-house -to force the brain." - -"Some schools are, but not Felicity. I want you to be noted in this -school, first for your gentleness." - -"Hum!" said Henrietta, "a gentle Fuzzy-wuzzy!" - -"Let me go on and say what is in my heart," continued Maureen. "Second, -for your unselfishness." - -"Turned into a goody-goody," muttered Henrietta. - -"No, no, dear child. Forgive me; that is really a silly expression, but -turned into one who _goes forward_ and who takes others along with her. -And now, think of the jolly time we have before us. We three girls are -going to meet Uncle Pat in Rome, that glorious, delightful place, and -when the Christmas holidays are over, and you have seen something of -another side of life, I am going to ask Mrs. Faithful to put you into -the sort of occupation which you can really do well, and which you have -a gift for." - -"And what on earth is that?" asked Henrietta. "Oh, Maureen, you _are_ -entertaining." - -"Well, I've been watching you a good bit." - -"I should think so. Those eyes of yours would see through--well, -through space itself. I often think you can see God." - -"Of course I do. I see Him when I am most happy and when my dreams are -most beautiful; but whenever He comes to me, awake or asleep, He says -the same words, '_Help Henrietta and Daisy to find their lives_.'" - -"I say, does He really?" - -"Well, yes, that is what He does say; and _I_ want you, Henrietta, to -find your life. After Christmas is over, I want you to learn all those -things which make a home happy. I will speak to Mrs. Faithful on the -subject, and she will get you regular teachers, and if she cannot do it -herself, you and Daisy can go to another school, where these things are -specially taught." - -"What things, what things?" - -"I will tell you after we come back from Rome. Now, come out and let's -have a chat with Margaret Devereux. I want her to be your real friend. -It is very bad for you only to have your dear little sister and me." - -Henrietta pouted and struggled, but in the end she yielded to the -superior force. - -Margaret proved herself to be a most fascinating girl, and as she -had often been to Rome and knew Italy very well indeed, she soon -enthralled both girls with her accounts of the Forum and of the -Coliseum by moonlight, and Nero's Golden House, and the great Church -of St. Peter's, and the pictures in the Vatican, and the Pope and the -cardinals. Margaret had a great gift for description, and even Henny -did not miss a word. - -Then Maureen suggested that they should not go to Rome a set of -ignoramuses, but should write down each day what Margaret had told -them. It is true that Maureen did most of the writing, but Henrietta -and Daisy were genuinely excited. - -"Hurrah for Fuzzy-wuzzy," exclaimed Daisy. "Upon my word, she _is_ -coming on." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -FUZZY-WUZZY. - - -There was no doubt whatever that Maureen's influence, once extended -to Fuzzy-wuzzy, as she was universally called at Felicity, exercised -a beneficial effect, but it is also true that a character like -Henrietta's could not attain to anything even approaching perfection -for many long years. - -The poor little girl would have to fight hard for her soul, and the sad -thing about her was this, that the soul within her was of a meagre and -feeble quality. She was neither clever nor really affectionate. Even -poor Daisy had more real life and vitality in her than Henrietta, but -neither girl was worth much. No one can account for these things, but -doubtless much was to be laid at the door of that selfish mother, who -in the most impressionable years of their lives put them in a cheap and -common school, taking care indeed of the pence and letting the pounds -take care of themselves. But even so, Henrietta and Daisy would never -have been great women, although they might and would have been very -different from the wild, the reckless, the hopelessly naughty girls who -had gone to Templemore. - -Daisy's illness was the best thing that could have happened to her, but -Henrietta was strong and fierce still. She dreaded death with a great -terror. She never forgot the feel of Daisy's cold brow just before she -woke from her trance. In consequence she could not bear to be alone at -night and slept with Maureen in the Chamber of Peace, much to that poor -little girl's own discomfort. - -But then Maureen lived for others, and mere physical discomfort was not -even to be thought of or mentioned in her vocabulary. - -By slow but sure degrees Maureen began to interest the other girls at -Felicity in Henrietta and Daisy. There were very few of the exceedingly -naughty girls at the school just then. Henrietta was far and away the -naughtiest, but she enjoyed her companions and made them laugh with -funny stories of the old house at Templemore. - -She had by no means Daisy's remarkable powers of mimicry, but she could -take off Pegeen and Burke to the life, and the girls simply shrieked -and held their sides as they listened to her. - -This kind of performance became exceedingly popular in the school, and -Henrietta, feeling that "nothing venture, nothing have," proceeded to -take off stepfather and mumsie-pumsie and even Maureen. But when she -came to this, several girls in the school, Margaret Devereux at their -head, marched away with their heads in the air. - -"Why, sakes alive, whatever have I done now?" said Henny. - -"I don't suppose any of us will let you make game of Maureen," said a -dark-eyed girl of the name of Marjorie Clarke. - -"Oh, oh," said Henrietta. "Why must _she_ be held so sacred?" - -"Because she is sacred," said Marjorie. - -The other girls, one and all, agreed with her. Henrietta stood silent, -rubbing up her fuzzy head. - -"I don't believe she'd mind," was her remark after a pause. "She's a -precious darling, she'd let me if it amused me. She'd do anything in -the world for me. You see, it's like this, girls. My _Dysy_ put her in -my care." - -"Oh, no, she didn't. I don't believe a word of that," said Marjorie -rather angrily. "And you oughtn't to speak of your dear little sister -as _Dysy_. Her pretty name is Daisy. I don't believe you have any -respect in you either for the living or the dead." - -"I haven't much," said Fuzzy. "I'm made that way, you see. Goodness -gracious, how can I help the way I'm made!" - -She looked wild with excitement. - -"I tell you what, colleens," she suddenly exclaimed. "I just _dote_ on -Maureen. I see her in the distance talking to Margaret Devereux and -Daisy. I'll go to her this minute and ask her if I may take her off. -She would let me do anything that amused me. She has such a _great_ -passion for me." - -The girls stood silent in subdued amazement. Henrietta crossed the -lawn. Maureen and Margaret were talking about Rome, Margaret taking -good care not to breathe a word to Maureen about the way Fuzzy-wuzzy -had gone on. Daisy was leaning on Maureen. - -"Here I am, you old _ducks_," said Fuzzy, springing into their midst. -"Now I want to ask this little precious one if she minds my taking her -off. I haven't Daisy's gift in that direction, but I have it a trifle. -You don't mind, do you, Maureen _asthore_?" - -"If you really wish to take me off, Henrietta, and if it gives you -pleasure, I hope I shall not be small enough to care." - -"Oh, hoity-toity! We are putting on airs, aren't we?" - -Here Henrietta boldly winked at Margaret. Margaret did not wink back in -reply. - -Daisy sprang to the front. "If you dare!" she said in her calm voice, -that voice which she had won through pain and victory. "If you really -wish to amuse yourself in that _disgraceful_ way, I for one give you -up. I did not intend to say anything to Maureen, for I would not hurt -her feelings for the world; but I may as well tell you quite plainly -and simply that I think, when you begin to take off our relations -and friends and your old home, your audience will be _nil_, for not -another girl in the school will listen to you." - -"There, take that for your impudence!" said Henrietta, and she tried -to slap Daisy, who immediately walked away. Henny burst into shrieks -of crying, clasped her arms around Maureen, and said, "Oh, Maureen, -_acushla machree_, what _have_ I done? Oh, indeed, indeed, I didn't -mean it, and you know well that I love you better than anyone in the -world except little lost and come again Daisy. It's only the fun in me -that must bubble to the surface." - -"Ah, poor Henny," said Maureen in her gentle voice. "I did so hope that -you would never behave like this again. You must come immediately to -Daisy and beg her pardon." - -"You won't catch _me_ begging pardons." - -"Henrietta, thou art wanted," said Dinah, who just then appeared on the -scene. - -She took the excited girl by the hand and led her into the house, then -up to the Room of Useful Employment, where Henny had spent so many -wretched hours; here a bright fire was burning, and the whole room -looked as neat as the proverbial new pin. Dinah dragged the punishment -chair into view. - -"Sit thee down, maiden," she said. - -"I will not! I will not! I have just been having a lark with the girls, -and----" - -"Thee didst try to slap thy sister on the cheek. I saw it all. It is -ordained that thou sit in the Punishment Chair for the remainder of -to-day, and to-night thou dost lie in a little bed by my side." - -"What! What! May I not go to Maureen?" - -"Thou art not worthy, unhappy maiden." As Dinah uttered the last words, -Mrs. Faithful and Nurse Annie came in. - -"Henrietta," said the headmistress, "I am inexpressibly shocked, -and unless you publicly after Divine Prayer to-morrow morning ask -forgiveness of Maureen and your sister, I shall keep you here with -Dinah for the holidays, and will not allow you to go to Rome with -Maureen and Daisy." - -"Oh! oh!" howled Fuzzy. - -"Come now, my dear, take your punishment meekly. Maureen has nothing to -do with it. What I say I mean. Come, Nurse Annie, help Dinah to place -Henrietta in this chair." - -So, in spite of Henrietta's frantic struggles, and her boundless rage, -into the chair she was put. She was quickly tied down, not in any way -uncomfortably, but nevertheless in such a fashion that she could not -move her head, her arms or her hands. - -Mrs. Faithful and Nurse Annie then quietly left the room. Dinah turned -on the bright light of a reading lamp, and resumed her endless sewing. - -"Tell me something funny, dear Dinah," said Henrietta after a pause. - -Silence, absolute and complete, on the part of Dinah. - -"Oh, Dinah, this is too horrible; such a punishment just for a bit of -a lark. Art thou not going to speak to me?" - -"No," replied Dinah; "not at all to-night." - -"Oh, my word, then I'll be as naughty as ever." - -Dinah folded her work gravely, then knelt down and began to pray. Henny -screamed and roared and went on in her old rebellious fashion. Dinah -continued to kneel in voiceless prayer. Taking it all round, it was -rather a terrible scene. The infuriated girl, her angry and insulting -words, and the calm woman who prayed. - -At long last, that prayer, so devout and holy, had its effect. -Henrietta began to sniffle, then to sob, then to cry copiously, then to -call aloud for Maureen, Maureen! But still Dinah took no notice. She -only got up very gently and wiped the tears from the poor swollen face, -and presently rang for supper. - -Henrietta made frantic efforts to catch her hand, but she was too -securely fastened to attain her object. Then she sobbed afresh and -Dinah knelt down once more and began to pray. - -"I will stop crying if thou wilt not go on," said Henrietta at last in -a frenzy. Instantly Dinah rose from her knees. She first of all wiped -away Henrietta's fresh flood of tears, she then brought a little basin -of warm water and bathed her swollen face, then she combed her hair, -not ruffling it up according to the Fuzzy-wuzzy manner. It had not been -cut for some months now and was growing long. - -Henrietta hated beyond words to look a "show." - -"Snip it and fuzz it, Dinah dear," she implored. - -Dinah parted it quietly in the middle and put it behind her ears. She -then again rang her bell. - -Nurse Annie appeared. She was given certain directions in Dinah's clear -voice. Ten minutes later supper was brought in for the naughty but now -hungry girl. It was quite a plain supper, not the tempting supper which -Dinah used to give her. There was a slice of cold meat and a piece of -bread, no butter, a little salt, and a glass of cold water. - -Dinah cut up the meat into strips and fed Henrietta. - -"Oh, thou art worse than ever," said Henrietta. - -Dinah made no reply. - -Henrietta was so hungry that she dared not refuse the food. She ate -every crumb, also, of the bread. She drained the glass of cold water. - -Dinah then looked at the clock. She fell down close to Henrietta and -suddenly resumed her prayers. - -The whole thing was awful, heartbreaking. Henrietta said in a voice -which was strangled with misery, "I'll be good, I'll be good. I want to -go to bed. Let me go to bed at once, Dinah dear." - -Dinah's soft dove eyes were fixed on her face. She asked with her eyes -the question she would not put into words. Her beautiful eyes said, -"Wilt thee humiliate thyself to-morrow morning?" - -Henrietta could not mistake the language. She gave a vigorous nod and -let her hair tumble about her head. Immediately Dinah unfastened the -slipknots which bound the girl and conveyed her to her own bedroom. - -It was a little room not at all like the Chamber of Peace. It was very -plain, even severe. Dinah had put away her work and extinguished the -reading-lamp before she left the Room of Useful Employment. - -She undressed Henrietta and put her into bed. She then lay down beside -her, but only partly undressed herself. That is, she merely exchanged -her quiet Quaker dress and cap and apron for a dressing-gown also made -of the Quaker grey. She then stretched herself beside Henrietta. - -Henrietta suddenly clutched one of her hands and kissed it. - -"Oh, Dinah, Dinah dear!" - -No words of any sort came from Dinah. - -Henrietta was so weary that she dropped asleep. She slept all night -long without moving. - -Early in the morning Dinah got up. Henrietta was still sleeping. Dinah -got out one of the hideous punishment dresses--the grey stuff with the -ugly sort of white overall. - -"I won't--I won't wear that," cried Henny. - -Dinah made no comment, but just at this moment Nurse Annie appeared -with a sitz-bath. Between Nurse Annie and Dinah, Henrietta was -powerless. She was fed with bread-and-milk, quite nourishing and good. -Then the punishment dress was put on. Afterwards, between Nurse Annie -and Dinah, she went slowly downstairs to the great hall. Maureen was -present and Daisy. Prayers were about to begin. - -All the love of all the world seemed to shine out of Maureen's eyes. -Every girl in the school stared at the culprit in the punishment dress, -but Maureen did not even see the dress. She was looking beyond it into -the heart of the girl. - -Prayers began as usual and came to an end. Then there was a pause, -significant, rather appalling. - -Suddenly Maureen rose and, taking Henrietta's little cold hand, said, -"Come, darling!" - -"To the world's end with you, _asthore_," was Henrietta's reply. - -Maureen took her straight up to Daisy. - -"Daisy," said Maureen, "she has come to tell you that she is very, very -sorry." - -"I am indeed, most truly," said Henrietta, and there was absolute -conviction in her voice. - -"Then of course I forgive you, Fuzzy darling--darling! It was your -trying to take off our dearest Maureen that hurt my very soul." - -Here she touched Maureen with infinite love and tenderness on the -shoulder. - -"I quite forgive our Henny," she said. - -"Then, my dear Henrietta," said Mrs. Faithful, "there is an end of the -matter. You have expressed sorrow and are quite forgiven. Maureen, -darling, take her upstairs and remove her punishment frock. We -sincerely trust there will not be a repetition of this terrible scene." - -During the rest of that day Henrietta was quiet, clinging to Maureen -and Daisy and talking very little, but the day after she recovered her -usual spirits, for hers was not a nature ever to fret deeply or long. - -She ceased, however, to cultivate her gift of mimicry, which was in -itself too slight to be of any value. - -The Christmas holidays were fast approaching, and Maureen, Henrietta, -Daisy and Dominic were to meet the beloved Rector in Rome. Maureen's -heart beat high with delight. Henrietta and Daisy were also excited, -but not to the same degree. - -At last the day when they were to start arrived. They were to be -exactly four weeks away. Henrietta enjoyed the travelling very much. -They got to Rome at midnight of the second day. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE LESSON NOT YET LEARNED. - - -Now many of the girls who read this story will doubtless imagine that -Henrietta Mostyn has learned her lesson and will in future be at least -an ordinarily good girl, not breaking out into any violent crises of -bad temper and naughtiness. But the girls who do think so do not quite -realise Henrietta's nature. - -For the first couple of days she was delighted with the life at the -charming hotel where Mr. O'Brien had taken rooms for his party. The -foreign food was also agreeable to her palate. She could talk as much -as she pleased, and she certainly did chatter to her heart's content, -but the beauty and the glory and the greatness of Rome were not for one -like Henrietta. - -The great Church of St. Peter's puzzled her, but aroused no respect. -The pictures at the Vatican which so enraptured Maureen and Dominic -wearied her to distraction. The different churches they visited were -all beautiful to Maureen, Dominic, and Mr. O'Brien, but go where -they would, see what they might, the only thing that really pleased -Henrietta was her food, her admirable food, and the different dresses -that the ladies wore who came in and out of the hotel. - -As to everything else, it became a weariness of the flesh to the -poor child. She did not like the innumerable shops with their lovely -photographs and pieces of rare _vertu_ exposed to view, but she gloated -over the shops which displayed chocolates, cakes, and other dainty -sweetmeats. She liked, too, to see the shops full of colour. She wanted -brightness. She had a perfect passion for sweets and very gay beads and -for brightness. In short, Henrietta was nothing less than a vigorous -little cuckoo hatched in the wrong nest. - -She was still, it is true, anxious to please Maureen, but otherwise she -was sick of Rome. - -One morning the whole party went early to the celebrated Fountain of -Trevi, and, as was the custom, Dominic, the Rector, Maureen, and Daisy -all drank of the sparkling, delicious water. Maureen filled a glass to -the brim and brought it to Henrietta. - -"Take it away," said Henny; "I hate cold water." - -"Oh," replied Maureen, "but you must try and drink this. There is an -old legend about this. You drink, if it is only a little, and it will -insure your return again to this darling, splendid Rome." - -"That settles the question," replied Henrietta. "If there is a place on -this earth I loathe, it is Rome. It is a degree worse, I do declare, -than the Punishment Chair, and Dinah praying without uttering a word -aloud, and that is saying a good bit." - -"Well, Henny, you'll learn to love the wonders of Rome some day. Look, -do look, there are some cardinals. Don't they look too wonderful in -their crimson robes?" - -"I won't look. I don't see anything pretty or beautiful about those -affected beings. I say, Maureen, I've got a splitting pain in my _nut_. -Please, Maureen's uncle, for you don't allow me to call you step-daddy, -may I go back at once to the Hotel? I promise indeed to be good and, as -you are all going to that horrid Vatican, may I not lie down? Please, I -cannot stand any more pictures." - -"I'm sorry you have a headache," said Maureen. "Perhaps, Uncle Pat, she -might go back and lie down. We must try and find something quite light -and entertaining for her to-night." - -"Oh yes, do, do," said Henny, clapping her hands. - -"Henrietta, can I take you at your word; will you be good?" said the -Rector. "Dominic and Maureen and Daisy and I are going to meet one of -the great professors, who will show us and explain to us the recent -excavations in the Forum." - -"I honestly promise to be good--I do, indeed," said Henny. - -"And you won't leave the Hotel; _you promise_?" - -"Of course, I do. I'll be only too thankful to lie down and keep quiet -until it is time to eat. Although I have a headache, I am hungry. I -suppose I may eat even though you are out enjoying what would kill me." - -"Yes, poor little girl, you may certainly eat. We'll take her back to -the Hotel, Maureen, and put her under the care of Victorine, who will -let her know when _déjeuner_ is served." - -So Henrietta had her way. - -Victorine was a dark-eyed Italian girl, who could speak broken English, -and promised volubly to see after the signorina, but Mr. O'Brien did -not feel thoroughly comfortable as he went off with Maureen and Daisy -and Dominic, at leaving this wild creature practically alone. - -But Maureen, for once in her life, was selfish. She absolutely forgot -Henrietta in the marvels which the great professor poured into her -cultured little mind. She listened with awe and wonder. - -She was no longer in the country of modern civilisation; she had ceased -to be a child of the present day. She was back in the old, old times. -She was even with Nero in his unspeakable cruelty--but also in the -refinement of this extraordinary being's perfect taste. - -She was with the Vestal Virgins. She was under the Arch of Titus. She -stood on the banks of the Tiber, that mighty river of ancient times. -Her heart thrilled and stood still. Was _this_ narrow turgid stream the -mighty fast-flowing river that was known in history, where the great -Horatius kept the bridge? - -It was some small comfort to the eager little listener when the old -professor explained to her how centuries had worked changes and that -the river was really a mighty mass of swift-flowing water in the brave -days of old. - -The learned professor was really charmed with his little companion, -and insisted on the entire party coming to lunch with him in his -_appartement_ in one of the old palaces. - -Finally he took them to see under his own special guidance the -greatest picture in the world--Raphael's Transfiguration, that mighty -masterpiece, so well known, and never to be forgotten. He explained the -full meaning of the picture, Christ in Glory, the awed and terrified -disciples, the epileptic boy. He described how, when Raphael died, the -picture was scarcely finished, but it was hung over his death-bed as he -lay in state, and was carried in his funeral procession. - -Finally he recited those great lines of Rogers: - - - "And when all beheld - Him where he lay, how changed from yesterday-- - Him in that hour cut off, and at his head - His last great work;--when entering in, they look'd, - Now on the dead, then on _that_ masterpiece-- - Now on his face, lifeless and colourless, - Then on those forms divine that lived and breathed, - And would live on for ages--all were moved, - And sighs burst forth and loudest lamentations." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE LEARNING OF LIFE'S LESSON. - - -Henrietta, when she first returned to the Hotel, had no idea of being -disobedient. On the contrary, she thought she would partake of an -enormous lunch and then get hold of some novel and enjoy herself. She -could manage to forget Rome and its abominations for the time being, -but alas for Henrietta, she was a wonderfully restless being. She ate -ravenously after Victorine told her that _déjeuner_ was waiting, then -she went up to her room, and absolutely and completely forgetting her -solemn promise to step-daddy and Maureen, she prepared to go out on her -own account. - -The Coliseum fascinated her, for she had a great natural love for -horrors. She thought if she could only get there by herself she could -imagine the whole scene when the lions sprang out upon the Christians -and tore them to pieces. She didn't so much mind about the gladiators, -but she thought it would be lovely to see a Christian like Dinah torn -to bits. She could entertain herself very well for an hour or two at -the Coliseum. She accordingly put on a bright-red frock, which _almost_ -toned with her hair, and which she had purchased secretly a day or two -ago. Although cold in England, it was balmy and delightful in Rome. The -air was like nectar and was very rousing to the spirit. She ruffled -up her hair more than ever and perched upon its mass of curls a small -black velvet cap with a long red feather. Her eyes were bright with -excitement. - -She loved people to stare at her. She always stared back with bold -defiance. If they were nice people she smiled to them. If they were the -reverse she frowned, but in the company of step-daddy and Dominic and -Maureen and Daisy she did not dare to give way to these queer freaks of -her nature. - -Finally, she put her purse into her pocket. She had plenty of money, -mostly in Italian lire, which she greatly disliked because it looked -dirty. Nevertheless the dirty lire could buy things and she meant to -have a feast all by herself in the Coliseum. She went to a shop where -sweetmeats, cakes, and chocolates of all sorts abounded, but first she -twisted round her neck a long and very valuable gold chain, which had -belonged to her mother. The late Mrs. O'Brien had many jewels, which -were kept reverently by the Rector for her daughters when they came -of age. He had allowed each girl, however, to take a memento of their -mother away with them when they went to school. - -Daisy had a little watch studded round with diamonds, and Henrietta -had a long gold chain. She hung the gold chain round her neck, and -soon started off for the Coliseum in the highest spirits. She had a -great bag of sweetmeats, and she meant to imagine herself _Nero_, or -_perhaps_ one of the lions, who was devouring Dominic and stepfather, -while Maureen stood gravely by crying and expostulating. She imagined -her finger as Nero's, pointing DOWN for the certain destruction of her -relatives. She was so ignorant that she did not know that this was the -special office of the _Vestal Virgins_. - -Oh, it would be fun! The day was sunny and bright, and it was still -fairly early. Henrietta reached the Coliseum. A guide came up and spoke -to her. He spoke broken English. She asked him two important questions, -one with regard to Nero's throne, the other the exact place where the -lions came out. - -He explained them to her volubly. - -Henrietta said, "You can go now, I don't want anything more." - -"Will you not give me a lire, kind _signorina_?" - -"I? Give you all that?" cried Henrietta. "Not I! Get you gone!" - -The man frowned. He had a very dark Italian face. He left the Coliseum -slowly. There were no visitors to-day, they would come perhaps -to-night, for the moon would shine, but meanwhile, with the exception -of this one intolerable signorina, he had seen no one. He made a -scanty living by showing people round the Coliseum, and they always -paid him if not a lire, at least a smaller coin. He had his wife and -brown-faced children living in a hut on the hills. Giuseppa, his eldest -son, would clamour for bread. Felisé, his wife, would ask him what he -meant by coming back penniless. All the children would cry. He could -not bear to hear them cry. He had the hot blood of the Italians in his -veins. He took a dagger from his breast and looked at it longingly. The -red signorina was doubtless rich. She abounded in jewels. He had caught -a glimpse of her long thick gold chain. She wasn't a nice signorina, -not at all. Still, _if_ he murdered her, he might lose his employment. -He had no compunction about taking her life, but the money obtained for -the gold chain would be exhausted long before he got another job. - -On the whole, he had better let her be. - -Meanwhile, Henrietta, in the height of enjoyment, seated herself in -the part which was supposed to be Nero's throne, and spread out her -sweetmeats before her. She began to "gobble, gobble," as she expressed -it. How she wished Daisy was with her! It was really tiresome of Daisy -to go with the others. What fun they two would have in the Coliseum -now. How they would mimic that horrid Italian. - -After a time, having eaten to repletion, she left Nero's throne and -went boldly down the steps which led to the underground cavern where -the hungry lions were kept in the brave days of old. - -She did not much like this place. It was gloomy. She quickly left it -and came back into the sunshine. To her horror and disgust, she saw a -particularly wild and fierce-looking man, seated on Nero's throne and -devouring with great appetite and relish the remains of her chocolates -and sweetmeats. - -"Hi! Stop that! Get out of that!" cried Henrietta. "Those are mine, you -horrid thief!" - -The man did not know a single word of English, but he smiled derisively -and continued his meal. Henrietta flew at him in a transport of rage -and began to box him about the ears and to try and get back what was -left of her lost possessions. - -The man turned upon her with a wicked flash, out of black eyes, the -darkness of which she had never seen before. In an instant he had -gagged his victim, tying a rough cloth round her mouth and the lower -part of her face. She could not speak; she could scarcely breathe. -He then proceeded deliberately to rob her. He took the chain and her -purse, which contained a number of lire and some gold pieces. - -He then took out a dagger and showed it to her. The dagger was very -bright and sharp. He pointed it at her breast. - -The sun had gone in by now, and, quick as thought, he tucked his arm -round the terrified girl and conducted her through back ways and -slums until they got out under the Arch of Titus, and thus on to the -Via Appia. They walked quickly, the girl breathing hard and really -terrified at last. - -Presently they came to a great building, which stood alone amidst -others very similar to it, in this gloomy spot. It was the most -celebrated tomb of a great Roman lady, which had been erected to her -honour on the Via Appia. The front of the tomb faced the straight and -level road, but the back was neglected, unsought and uncared for. The -bones of the great lady doubtless lay within, but _she_ had no power -now to protect the shivering girl. This Roman matron of high repute -could do nothing for the scornful little Henrietta in her time of need. -The girl tried feebly to pray. She was doubtless in the hands of a -brigand. He would kill her at any moment. He uttered exclamations of -rapture as they approached the mighty tomb, and swept the girl round to -the back. - -No one saw them as they disappeared, although carriages and even -motor-cars were going by in numbers, returning quickly to Rome before -the dangerous hour of the sunset. - -The Italian bandit then calmly proceeded to take from one of his -numerous pockets a great coil of coarse rope. With this he bound -Henrietta hand and foot and laid her on the grass. As he did so, the -guide to whom she had refused a lire came up. - -"Ha, Giuseppa," said the guide. - -Henrietta struggled to speak. - -The guide laughed heartily and went away with the bandit into one of -the fastnesses of the surrounding hills. - -The girl, lying on the weeds and grass, just beneath the tomb of this -great Roman lady, did not know what was going to happen to her. She was -certain that when it was quite dark that awful man would return. - -Such, indeed, was his intention. He meant to hide the cruel foreigner -until a mighty ransom was secured for her delivery, but he could not -take her across the Campagna in her remarkable dress until the night -had really come. - -Poor Henrietta rolled about in anguish. These cords were cutting into -her flesh. The Punishment Chair was the home of all luxury compared to -this. She believed unless deliverance came--and why should deliverance -come?--she would be stabbed with that awful dagger. - -Meanwhile Maureen continued to be selfish. Her uncle wondered at her. -Never before had he seen his little girl so determined to have her own -way. - -"I want, Uncle Pat," she said, "to see the great tomb of Cecilia -Metella. Don't you know those lines in _Childe Harold_?" - -"No, my child, but I don't like being out on the Campagna so late." - -"I will repeat the lines," said Maureen. "We shall soon get there." - -"But--but--Henrietta!" muttered the Rector. - -"We will go back to her immediately after seeing this wonderful tomb," -said Maureen. - -Then in her rich voice she repeated the well-known words: - - - "There is a stern round tower of other days, - Firm as a fortress, with its fence of stone, - Such as an army's baffled strength delays, - Standing with half its battlements alone, - And with two thousand years of ivy grown, - The garland of eternity, where wave - The green leaves over all by time o'erthrown;-- - What was this tower of strength? within its cave - What treasure lay so lock'd, so hid?--a woman's grave, - - "But who was she, the lady of the dead, - Tomb'd in a palace? Was she chaste and fair? - What race of chiefs and heroes did she bear? - What daughter of her beauties was the heir? - How lived--how loved--how died she? - - "Perchance she died in youth: it may be, bowed - With woes far heavier than the ponderous tomb - That weighed upon her gentle dust, a cloud - Might gather o'er her beauty, and a gloom - In her dark eye, prophetic of the doom - Heaven gives its favourites--early death. - Perchance she died in age--surviving all, - Charms, kindred, children--with the silver grey - On her long tresses, which might yet recall, - It may be, still a something of the day - When they were braided, and her proud array - And lovely form were envied, praised and eyed - By Rome--but whither would Conjecture stray? - Thus much alone we know--Metella died, - The wealthiest Roman's wife; Behold his love or pride! - - -"There, Uncle Pat, isn't that magnificent?" said the girl. "And oh, -here we are!" - -Henrietta, lying hidden at the back of the round tower, heard the -well-known voices. She heard Daisy's laugh. Hope revived in her heart. -She managed with a superhuman effort to give a sort of groan. - -Instantly, without a moment's hesitation, Maureen had flown to the back -of the tomb and was bending over her. "Oh, Uncle Pat, Uncle Pat, give -me your knife quickly, quickly! I'm here, it's all right, darling! Oh -yes, I know you disobeyed, but we'll set you free and bring you home. -Don't talk, but keep up your courage. Your own Maureen, whom you love, -is with you." - - * * * * * * - -And this, perhaps, may be a fitting end to the story, for Henrietta's -hard little speck of a heart _was_ softened at last. Her terror and -anguish, her real and appalling danger had done their work. - - * * * * * * - -Some years have passed now since Maureen rescued Henrietta from the -back of the tomb of that great Roman lady, Cecilia Metella, and Maureen -has long left Felicity to take up other work in other places, to spread -her bright influence of love around her more and more, but Henrietta -and Daisy are still inmates of Felicity. Strange and extraordinary as -it seems, the desire of Maureen's heart has been realised and the once -naughty and hopeless Henrietta has now become the greatest comfort of -Mrs. Faithful. She is not only the head girl of the school, but she is -the one who is always sent for in times of trouble and difficulty. Her -fun and wit are as bright as ever, her fiery hair gives her a striking -appearance, and she warns the naughty ones when they arrive of their -hopeless position, and where poor Miss Pinchin failed, she succeeds. On -her lips are the words of kindness, in her heart is as much love as she -is capable of. Every one likes her, every one appeals to her. - -Dinah says, "I could not do without thee." - -Mrs. Faithful has made a request that she may continue at Felicity as -long as she likes, as no one ever before so helped her in the school. - -Maureen and her Uncle have left Templemore and have gone to live in -England. This was a trial to Maureen, for she loved her country people -beyond words, but the Rector had grown feeble, sadly so of late, and -the Colonel gave up his beautiful place of Rathclaren, or rather he -sold it, and he and the Rector live together, while Maureen keeps house -for them both. - -"They are _my dear old men_," she says in her sweet voice, and surely -no voice could ever be sweeter than hers. - -It is easy for Dominic and Denis and Kitty to come to them during the -holidays, much easier than to cross over to the "ould, ould country." - -Maureen is as fond of Dominic as ever. - -"I am happy as the day is long," she said to him one day, "but there is -just one thing I miss, Dom, old boy." - -"And what may that be, acushla machree?" - -"Why, then, you wouldn't guess," said Maureen with a flash of her soft -brown eyes. "But it is just the _periwinkles_, avick. I think if I -could lie down on them once again and look up through the trees at the -blue, blue sky, I'd be--_well_, I'd be in Heaven." - -"It strikes me you are always in Heaven, Maureen Aroon," said the lad. - -He was going to Balliol then, having obtained a fine scholarship. - -Maureen said gently, "Heaven is always in my heart, always. I left Hate -behind at the bottom of the Peak of Desolation." - -"Ah, Maureen, there never was your like," said Dominic. "And what news -of Fuzzy-wuzzy and Daisy?" he continued. - -"Oh, but just splendid," said Maureen. "Amongst all my happy thoughts, -this is my happiest. Do you know that Henny is the head girl of the -school! And though she is just as funny as ever, Mrs. Faithful would -not give her up for the wide world. She has begged Uncle Pat to let her -stay at Felicity for the present." - -"And will he?" asked Dominic, a slight note of anxiety in his tone. - -"Why, of course, Fuzzy wishes it herself." - -"Then that's all right," said Dom. - -"Dom, she must come back sometimes, and when she does, and you are at -home, you must show her that you love her." - -"But I don't, you see," said the boy. - -"There you are; you are not my _own_ boy, Dom, when you talk like -that. Poor little Fuzzy-wuzzy! It isn't in her nature to give _much_ -love, so it is our bounden duty to lavish it on her, to surround her -with it. She must feel it mentally and in her heart." - -"She loves _you_, Maureen," said Dominic, in his solemn way. - -"Yes," replied Maureen, very gently. "I went to Felicity last week to -see them both, and she told me, poor darling, that she was perfectly -happy, and all the people were so nice to her, and she could manage the -naughty girls, oh, quite wonderfully. She told me also that she loved -as much as ever she _could_ Mrs. Faithful and Dinah, but, she added, -and, oh, Dom, I declare she looked quite _beautiful_, she _said_, 'I -have to _force_ myself to love them, but I do manage a little bit; -whereas, _you_, Maureen, _you_ and Daisy, without any effort, have _all -the love of my heart_.'" - -And Daisy, what became of her in the future? What did she see in that -deep, trance-like slumber, which even the clever doctors and the -professional nurses took for death? Something surely which she was -never to forget, which, in fact, she never did forget. For, as a matter -of fact, the love of Maureen, her passionate devotion to the White -Angel, had entered down deep into her heart and stayed there forever -and ever. - -The Daisy of the present is a quiet girl. She has perhaps a little of -the mantle of Maureen flung over her. She is remarked in the school -for her great gentleness; the sly look so apparent once in her -face has utterly departed. She is sweet and grave and noted for her -unselfishness. - -Henrietta must always retain her fire, but Daisy, by a look or word, -can compel her. Daisy is happy of the happy. She knows the very solemn -things of life, for has she not in very truth stood at the entrance to -the gate of death with the White Angel? - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAUGHTER OF A SOLDIER*** - - -******* This file should be named 62734-8.txt or 62734-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/2/7/3/62734 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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