Part 21 (2/2)

'No more, thank you, my good lady; I never ate a better supper, nor received a more hospitable welcome.'

'Oh, the welcome is all we have to offer.'

'May I ask what that is?' said Lord Colambre, looking at the notched stick, which the young woman held in her hand, and on which her eyes were still fixed.

It's a TALLY, plase your honour. Oh, you're a foreigner;--it's the way the labourers do keep the account of the day's work with the overseer, the bailiff; a notch for every day the bailiff makes on his stick, and the labourer the like on his stick, to tally; and when we come to make up the account, it's by the notches we go. And there's been a mistake, and is a dispute here between our boy and the overseer; and she was counting the boy's tally, that's in bed, tired, for in troth he's overworked.'

'Would you want anything more from me, mother?' said the girl, rising and turning her head away.

'No, child; get away, for your heart's full.'

She went instantly.

'Is the boy her brother?' said Lord Colambre.

'No; he's her bachelor,' said the old woman, lowering her voice.

'Her bachelor?'

'That is, her sweetheart: for she is not my daughter, though you heard her call me mother. The boy's my son; but I am afeard they must give it up; for they're too poor, and the times is hard, and the agent's harder than the times; there's two of them, the under and the upper; and they grind the substance of one between them, and then blow one away like chaff: but we'll not be talking of that to spoil your honour's night's rest. The room's ready, and here's the rushlight.'

She showed him into a very small but neat room. 'What a comfortable-looking bed!' said Lord Colambre.

'Ah, these red check curtains,' said she, letting them down; 'these have lasted well; they were give me by a good friend, now far away, over the seas--my Lady Clonbrony; and made by the prettiest hands ever you see, her niece's, Miss Grace Nugent's, and she a little child that time; sweet love! all gone!'

The old woman wiped a tear from her eye, and Lord Colambre did what he could to appear indifferent. She set down the candle, and left the room; Lord Colambre went to bed, but he lay awake, 'revolving sweet and bitter thoughts.'

CHAPTER XI

The kettle was on the fire, tea-things set, everything prepared for her guest by the hospitable hostess, who, thinking the gentleman would take tea to his breakfast, had sent off a GOSSOON by the FIRST LIGHT to Clonbrony, for an ounce of tea, a QUARTER OF SUGAR, and a loaf of white bread; and there was on the little table good cream, milk, b.u.t.ter, eggs--all the promise of an excellent breakfast. It was a FRESH morning, and there was a pleasant fire on the hearth, neatly swept up. The old woman was sitting in her chimney corner, behind a little skreen of whitewashed wall, built out into the room, for the purpose of keeping those who sat at the fire from the BLAST OF THE DOOR. There was a loophole in this wall, to let the light in, just at the height of a person's head, who was sitting near the chimney. The rays of the morning sun now came through it, s.h.i.+ning across the face of the old woman, as she sat knitting; Lord Colambre thought he had seldom seen a more agreeable countenance, intelligent eyes, benevolent smile, a natural expression of cheerfulness, subdued by age and misfortune.

'A good-morrow to you kindly, sir, and I hope you got the night well?--A fine day for us this Sunday morning; my Grace is gone to early prayers, so your honour will be content with an old woman to make your breakfast.

Oh, let me put in plenty, or it will never be good; and if your honour takes stir-about, an old hand will engage to make that to your liking, anyway; for, by great happiness, we have what will just answer for you of the nicest meal the miller made my Grace a compliment of, last time she went to the mill.'

Lord Colambre observed, that this miller had good taste; and his lords.h.i.+p paid some compliment to Grace's beauty, which the old woman received with a smile, but turned off the conversation. 'Then,' said she, looking out of the window, 'is not that there a nice little garden the boy dug for her and me, at his breakfast and dinner hours? Ah! he's a good boy, and a good warrant to work; and the good son DESARVES the good wife, and it's he that will make the good husband; and with my goodwill he, and no other, shall get her, and with her goodwill the same; and I bid 'em keep up their heart, and hope the best, for there's no use in fearing the worst till it comes.'

Lord Colambre wished very much to know the worst.

'If you would not think a stranger impertinent for asking,' said he, 'and if it would not be painful to you to explain.'

'Oh, impertinent, your honour! it's very kind--and, sure, none's a stranger to one's heart, that feels for one. And for myself, I can talk.

of my troubles without thinking of them. So, I'll tell you all--if the worst comes to the worst--all that is, is, that we must quit, and give up this little snug place, and house, and farm, and all, to the agent--which would be hard on us, and me a widow, when my husband did all that is done to the land; and if your honour was a judge, you could see, if you stepped out, there has been a deal done, and built the house, and all--but it plased Heaven to take him. Well, he was too good for this world, and I'm satisfied--I'm not saying a word again' that--I trust we shall meet in heaven, and be happy, surely. And, meantime, here's my boy, that will make me as happy as ever widow was on earth--if the agent will let him. And I can't think the agent, though they that know him best call him old Nick, would be so wicked to take from us that which he never gave us. The good lord himself granted us the LASE; the life's dropped, and the years is out; but we had a promise of renewal in writing from the landlord. G.o.d bless him! if he was not away, he'd be a good gentleman, and we'd be happy and safe.'

'But if you have a promise in writing of a renewal, surely you are safe, whether your landlord is absent or present?'

'Ah, no I that makes a great DIFFER, when there's no eye or hand over the agent. I would not wish to speak or think ill of him or any man; but was he an angel, he could not know to do the tenantry justice, the way he is living always in Dublin, and coming down to the country only the receiving days, to make a sweep among us, and gather up the rents in a hurry, and he in such haste back to town--can just stay to count over our money, and give the receipts. Happy for us, if we get that same!--but can't expect he should have time to see or hear us, or mind our improvements, any more than listen to our complaints! Oh, there's great excuse for the gentleman, if that was any comfort for us,' added she, smiling.

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