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Read books online » Fiction » Light O' the Morning: The Story of an Irish Girl by L. T. Meade (e book free reading TXT) 📖

Book online «Light O' the Morning: The Story of an Irish Girl by L. T. Meade (e book free reading TXT) 📖». Author L. T. Meade



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stay there another moment. The time had come to act. She had hesitated long, but she would hesitate no longer. She ran downstairs. The first person she saw was Molly.

“Well,” said Molly, “how is he?”

“Very bad indeed,” said Nora; “there's not a moment to lose. Something must be done, and quickly.”

“What can be done?”

“Come out with me; I have a thought in my head.”

Nora and Molly went outside. They crossed the avenue, went along the plantation at the back, and soon found themselves in the huge yard which flanked the back of the house. In a distant part of the yard was a barn, and this barn Nora now entered. It was untidy; the doors fitted badly; the floor was of clay. It was quite empty.

Nora gave a sigh of relief.

“I dreamed of this barn last night,” she said. “I think it is the very place.”

“For what, Nora; for what?”

“I am going to have father moved here to-day.”

“Nora, what nonsense you are talking! You will kill him.”

“Save his life, you mean,” said Nora. “I am going to get a bedstead, a straw paillasse, and an old hard mattress, and I am going to have them put here; and we'll get a bit of tarpaulin to put on the floor, to prevent the damp coming up; and I'll put a curtain across this window so that he needn't have too much draught, the darling; and there shall be nothing else in the room except a wooden table. He shall have his potatoes and salt, and his bit of salt bacon, if he wishes, and he shall have his great big bare room. I tell you what it is, Molly, he'll never get well unless he is brought here.”

“What a girl you are! But how will you do it?”

“Leave it to me. Do you mind driving with me on the outside car as far as Cronane?”

“The outside car? I have never been on it yet.”

“Oh, come along; I'll introduce you to the sweetest conveyance in the world.”

Nora's spirits rose at the thought of immediate action.

“Won't it surprise and delight him?” she said. She went up to one of the grooms. He was an English groom, and was somewhat surprised at the appearance of the young lady in the yard.

“What can I do for you, miss?” he said.

“I want Angus,” answered Nora. “Where is he?”

Angus was one of the few old Irish servants who were still left at Castle O'Shanaghgan. He now came forward in a sheepish kind of way; but when he saw Nora his face lit up.

“Put one of the horses to the outside car at once—Black Bess if you can,” said Nora.

“Yes, miss,” said the man, “with all the pleasure in life.”

“Don't take it round to the front door. Miss Molly and I want to drive to Cronane. You needn't come with us, Angus; just put the horse to, and I'll drive myself.”

Accordingly, in less than ten minutes' time the two girls were driving in the direction of Cronane. Molly, brave as she was, had some difficulty in keeping on. She clung to the sides of the car and panted.

“Nora, as sure as Jehoshaphat and Elephants, I'll be flung out on to the highroad!” cried Molly.

“Sit easy and nothing will happen,” said Nora, who was seated comfortably herself at the other side and was driving with vigor.

Presently they reached Cronane, which looked just as dilapidated as ever.

“Oh, the darling place! Isn't it a relief to see it?” said Nora. “Don't I love that gate off its hinges! It's a sight for sore eyes—that it is.”

They dashed up the avenue and stopped before the hall door.

Standing on the steps—where, indeed, he spent most of his time—and indulging in the luxury of an old church-warden pipe, was Squire Murphy. He raised a shout when he saw Nora, and ran down the steps as fast as he could.

“Why, my bit of a girl, it's good to see you!” he cried. “And who is this young lady?”

“This is my cousin, Molly Hartrick. Molly, may I introduce you to Squire Murphy?”

“Have a grip of the paw, miss,” said Squire Murphy, holding out his great hand and clasping Molly's.

“And now, what can I do for you, Nora alannah? 'Tis I that am glad to see you. There's Biddy in the house, and the wife; they'll give you a hearty welcome, and no mistake. You come along right in, the pair of yez; come right in.”

“But I cannot,” said Nora. “I want to speak to you alone and at once. Can you get one of the boys to hold the horse?”

“To be sure. Dan, you spalpeen! come forward this minute. Now then, hold Black Bess, and look alive, lad. Well, Nora, what is it?”

Molly stood on the gravel sweep, Nora and the Squire walked a few paces away.

“It's this,” said Nora; “you haven't asked yet how father is.”

“But he is doing fine, they tell me. I see I'm not wanted at O'Shanaghgan; and I'm the last man in the world to go there when the cold shoulder is shown to me.”

“Oh! they would never mean that,” said Nora, in distress.

“Oh, don't they mean it, my dear? Haven't I been up to the Castle day after day, and asking for the Squire with my heart in my mouth, and ready to sit by his side and to colleague with him about old times, and raise a laugh in him, and smoke with him; and haven't I been repelled?—the Squire not well enough to see me; madam herself not at home. Oh, I know their ways. When you were poor at O'Shanaghgan, then Squire Murphy was wanted; but now that you're rich, Squire Murphy can go his own way for aught you care.”

“It is not true, Mr. Murphy,” said the girl, her bright blue eyes filling with tears. “Oh!” she added, catching his hand impulsively, “don't I know it all? But it's not my father's fault; he would give the world to see you—he shall see you. Do you know why he is ill?”

“Why so, Nora? Upon my word, you're a very handsome girl, Nora.”

“Oh, never mind about my looks now. My father is ill because—because of all the luxury and the riches.”

“Bedad, then, I'm glad to hear it,” said the Squire of Cronane. He slapped his thigh loudly. “It's the

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