Part 37 (1/2)

”Amber and gold,” said the girl, proudly.

”Now she looks like the picture of her,” said Lady Vyner, in French; ”she positively is pretty. The horrid dress disfigured her altogether.”

Sir Gervais entered the room hastily at this moment, and whispered a few words in his wife's ear, concluding aloud: ”Let her go to Ada; she is in the garden. You can go this way, Kitty,” said he, opening one of the French windows; ”cross over the gra.s.s to that little wooden gate yonder, and the path will bring you to the garden. You'll find a young lady there, who would like to know you.”

”May I have my bonnet?” asked she, wistfully.

”No; go without it. You'll be freer!”

”I must ask you to let me show you this old man. He has submitted me to a cross-examination so sharp and searching for the last half-hour, that I really want a little rest.”

Whatever absurdity the pretension of dress had thrown around the girl, nothing of the same kind was observable in the appearance of the old man, who, in his long coat of bluish grey frieze, and with his snow-white hair falling on his shoulders, stood before them. His air, too, was thoroughly respectful; but neither abashed by the presence in which he found himself, nor, stranger still for an Irish peasant, at all excited to any show, of curiosity by the rich objects about.

”Well, Malone,” said Vyner, with the frank familiar tone that so well became him, ”I believe we have now gone over everything that we have to say to each other, and, at all events, as you will stop here today----”

”No, your honour; with your honour's leave, I'll go off now. It's best for the child, and, indeed, for myself!” And a heavy sigh followed the last word.

”You are afraid, then, she will fret after you,” said Georgina, fixing a full and steady gaze on the old man's face.

”She might, my Lady,” said he, calmly.

”Nothing more natural; who would blame her?” broke in Lady Vyner. ”But might it not be as well for you to wait and see how she likes her new life here?”

”She is sure to like it, my Lady.”

”I suspect she is!” said Georgina, quickly. And the old man turned and looked at her with a keen, sharp glance; it almost seemed to ask, ”How do you know this?”

Vyner broke the somewhat awkward pause that ensued, by saying, ”As I shall be your landlord, Malone, in a few days, you will have many opportunities of communicating with me, and I am sure, until your granddaughter can write with her own hand, either of these ladies will be kind enough to send you news of her.”

The old man made a gesture of grat.i.tude, and stood still without speaking. At length he sighed deeply, and seemed engaged in some process of recollection, for he counted over to himself something, marking each event on his fingers.

”I do think, Malone,” said Vyner, with much kindness of voice and manner, ”it would be well to remain here to-day at least. You yourself will go back more satisfied as you see in what sort of place and with what people you have left your child.”

”No, thank your honour; I'll go this morning. It is best. There's only one thing more I have to say, but to be sure it's the great one of all.”

”Then it is a matter of money,” said Georgina, in a low tone; but low as it was the old fellow, who often affected deafness, caught it at once, and with a look of great resentment fixed his eyes on her.

”I half suspect,” said Vyner, ”we have not forgotten anything. I have told you how she will be treated and looked on, how educated and cared for.”

”And how dressed,” added Lady Vyner.

”I have, so far as I know, too, provided for the contingency of her wis.h.i.+ng to return home again, or for such a wish on the part of her friends; and I have satisfied you that her opinions in matters of religion shall be respected, and that she shall have, whenever it is possible, the advantage of conferring with a priest of her own Church.

Now, do you remember anything else we ought to take into account?”

”Yes, your honour,” said the old man, resolutely. ”I want to know, if it was to happen, from any rayson, that your honour or the ladies wished to send her back again, after she was, maybe, two years or three years here, when she was accustomed to be treated like a lady, and felt like one--I want to know where she's to go, or who to?”

”There is much good sense in that question,” said Sir Within, in French; and he now arose to look closer at the old countryman.

”I think, Malone, we have already provided for that.”

”No, your honour. You said how it would be if Kitty wanted to go back herself, or if I sent for her; and how, too, it would be if, when she was grown up and fit to be married, that she ought to have consent from your honour, or the guardians that your honour wud give her in charge to. But now I want to know how it would be if, after the child was used to fine ways of livin', she was to be sent away--without any fault of hers, maybe, but just because--no matter for what rayson”--here his eyes glanced rapidly at Georgina--”I'd like to ax, what's to become of her then?”