WHERE THE 
 SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 I 
 
 The sky is soft above her, and her sod is green below 
 
 it; 
 Her heart beats warm for friendship, but is steel 
 
 against her foes ; 
 She's the mother of the soldier, she's the cradle of the 
 
 poet; 
 
 She's the land of song and legend where the 
 Shamrock grows. 
 
 To M. A. J.
 
 WHERE THE 
 SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 The Fortunes and Misfortunes 
 of an Irish Family 
 
 By 
 
 GEORGE H. JESSOP 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "My Lady Molly," "Shamus O'Brien," 
 etc,, etc., etc. 
 
 THE BAKER & TAYLOR COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK-
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK 
 GROWS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 AN IRISH AMAZON. 
 
 " THAT horse is running away," exclaimed 
 Gerald Delaney, standing up on his side of the 
 jaunting car and shading his eyes as he gazed 
 down the road. 
 
 "And there's a lady on his back," cried Jack 
 Whalen, imitating his companion's action, while 
 the driver reined in his sorry steed, and the 
 thunder of galloping hoofs on the hard macadam 
 sounded louder and closer. 
 
 11 Pull the car across the road," commanded 
 Gerald. " That will stop him." 
 
 "Do ye want me to turn him down the 
 boreen," remonstrated the jarvey. " It's into 
 the river he'd go then, an' maybe drown the 
 lady." 
 
 There was reason in this. A narrow lane 
 ran at right angles from the high road down 
 to the river bank, and it seemed likely that 
 the runaway, finding an obstacle in his path, 
 might take the course old Moriarty indicated. 
 
 "Do something then, confound you," cried 
 
 206103?
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 G'erald, and Moriarty drew his car with 
 elaborate care to one side and then looked back 
 at the rapidly approaching horse. 
 
 " Glory be, it's Miss Fetherstone," he ex- 
 claimed, "an* that mad divil of a chestnut is 
 in under her." 
 
 They were close at hand by this time the 
 wildly galloping horse, blinded by rage or 
 terror, and the slender, erect figure of the rider. 
 She sat bravely, and though the hands that 
 grasped the reins were powerless to control or 
 guide the great hunter, there was no white 
 signal of distress on her cheeks, no flinching 
 in her attitude. 
 
 Gerald seized a rug from the car, and run- 
 ning forward almost under the trampling feet, 
 he spread it in the horse's face. It swerved 
 and half turned, almost unseating its rider. 
 Then Gerald flung the rug over its head, hoping 
 to blindfold the animal. 
 
 He was partially successful. The rug settled 
 over the ears and hung a moment over the 
 muzzle. With an angry toss the horse flung 
 it aside and then, facing round as if to leap 
 the tall quick set hedge at the road side, it 
 reared almost erect, fighting the air with its 
 forefeet. 
 
 Gerald grasped for the bridle and flung all 
 his weight on one side with the object of bring- 
 ing the animal down. In this he succeeded 
 beyond his expectation. There was a moment's 
 struggle, a grinding and slipping of trampling 
 hoofs, and all three, horse, rider, and would-be 
 rescuer, came to the ground together.
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Miss Fetherstone was on her feet first. The 
 chestnut lay on its side, Jack Whalen, who had 
 sprung to the rescue scarce a second later than 
 his friend, securely seated on its head. Gerald 
 scrambled up and stood nursing his arm which 
 felt as if it had been wrenched from the socket. 
 The whole episode had been contained in the 
 space of a minute, and now the sound of hoofs, 
 pounding the hard road and drawing moment- 
 arily nearer, announced that the lady's groom 
 was hastening to the assistance of his mistress. 
 
 Kate Fetherstone and Gerald Delaney, pant- 
 ing and mud-bespattered, stood facing each 
 other, and the latter spared a thought from his 
 tingling arm, to own to himself he had seldom 
 looked on as handsome a woman. Her hat 
 was somewhat awry, and her hair, shaken loose 
 from its fastenings, streamed down to her waist 
 and below it, a magnificent mantle, deep tawny 
 red, shot with gold as it caught the level rays 
 of the westering November sun. She was 
 flushed with her adventurous ride, and as she 
 stood, her bosom rising and falling as she 
 caught her breath, she made as fair a picture as 
 one might hope to view whether in London 
 drawing room or on Irish road side. 
 
 So thought Gerald as he stood and allowed 
 his eyes their will of her, for hers were on her 
 fallen horse. Then he spoke, raising his hat 
 with as much grace as his stiffening shoulder 
 would permit. 
 
 11 You are not hurt, I hope? " 
 
 He realised that her eyes were brown as they 
 met his or were they hazel? 
 
 7
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Not in the least," she answered, " but that 
 was a terribly risky thing you did hanging 
 on to a horse's bridle just as he was rising for 
 a leap. You might have made him shake him- 
 self," 
 
 Gerald, who had expected compliments and 
 thanks, was taken aback. " I was concerned 
 for your safety, not that of the horse," he said. 
 
 "Oh, thank you. Nothing ever hurts me," 
 she replied, and then turned to the smart groom 
 who had just ridden up and dismounted. " Is 
 he any the worse, Nolan? " 
 
 "Are ye any the worse yerself, Miss?" the 
 man cried. "Glory be! The sight left me 
 eyes when I seen him bolt. If he'd struck the 
 parapet of the bridge or wheeled down the 
 boreen " 
 
 "He did neither," she interrupted impati- 
 ently. " See to Red Rover will you, and never 
 mind me." 
 
 Nolan bent over the prostrate horse and seized 
 the rein. 
 
 "Stand clear, sir, av' ye plaze," he said, 
 and, Jack Whalen relieving the animal of his 
 weight, Red Rover scrambled to his feet and 
 stood quiet with lowered head and heaving 
 flanks. The fierce spirit had exhausted itself 
 temporarily at least. 
 
 Nolan viewed him critically. 
 
 " The crutch of the saddle's broke an' one 
 girth is burst," he remarked. Then he led the 
 panting horse a step or two forward and a cry 
 of consternation went up from Miss Fetherstone. 
 
 "He's dead lame," she exclaimed, and cast
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 a reproachful look at Gerald which seemed to 
 say " Now see what you've done." 
 
 Nolan stooped and felt the leg from knee to 
 fetlock joint. 
 
 " It's only a bit of a strain, I think," he 
 said. " Leastways there's nothing broke. 
 Ye're well out of it Miss, the pair o' ye. A 
 few days' rest an' a drop of Elliman, an' he'll 
 be able an' willin' to break yer neck again, 
 plaze God." 
 
 " And if you have any of that Elliman to 
 spare I'll borrow some to rub on my shoulder." 
 
 Gerald was unable to resist the temptation 
 thus to call attention to his own services. That 
 so much interest should be lavished on a beast 
 which had been lamed by its own misbehaviour, 
 while no one paid the smallest attention to the 
 real hero of the occasion, seemed to him flag- 
 rantly unjust. His shoulder had ceased to pain, 
 but that was no reason why he should be 
 defrauded of his due. 
 
 Miss Fetherstone turned quickly. 
 
 "Are you hurt? I am so sorry. I didn't 
 know. Your shoulder, is it? Do you think 
 you could get your coat off? We are all sur- 
 geons, more or less, in these parts when it 
 comes to accidents in the hunting field." 
 
 There was real sympathy in her voice, and 
 Gerald felt a little ashamed of himself. 
 
 " It's nothing to signify," he answered 
 lightly. " I was only joking about the Elliman. 
 My arm was a bit wrenched, but it's all right 
 now," and he swung it, albeit somewhat gin- 
 gerly, in proof. 
 
 9
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 11 You came off very well," the lady answered, 
 and he shifted uneasily under the steady regard 
 of the brown eyes. *' I ought to thank you 
 very much, for of course you acted with the 
 best intentions, even if you did lame Red Rover. 
 But never do such a thing again. It's too 
 much to expect of any horse to rise to a leap 
 with ten or twelve stone hanging on to the bit." 
 
 " But I didn't expect or want him to leap," 
 protested Gerald, indignantly. " I could see 
 the brute was running away, and I simply tried 
 to stop him." 
 
 "Which you did most effectually," interrup- 
 ted Kate; "you've stopped him for a week or 
 more, right in the middle of the hunting 
 season." She was trying, not very success- 
 fully, to arrange her hair, and Gerald's indig- 
 nant glance was lost upon her. " Oh dear," 
 she continued. " What am I to do with this 
 unruly wig of mine. I must have strewn every 
 foot of the road from this to Ballymulvey with 
 hairpins. What can't be cured must be en- 
 dured," and with a shake of the head she 
 suffered the glorious tresses to flow free again. 
 " A pretty guy I'll look when I get home." 
 
 Gerald knew Kate Fetherstone by name per- 
 fectly well, and he had little doubt she would 
 be equally familiar with his, but the manner 
 in which she had received his bit of knight 
 errantry had not pleased him, and he was in 
 no haste to disclose his identity. This was his 
 first visit to his boyhood's home since he had 
 left it some eighteen years before, and at that 
 time Miss Fetherstone had no doubt been at
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS ^ 
 
 school. At any rate, she had not then adorned 
 the neighbourhood of Liscarrick. So he simply 
 raised his hat, expressed, with the air of a casual 
 stranger, his pleasure that she had escaped un- 
 hurt, and prepared to remount Moriarty's car 
 on which Jack Whalen had already seated him- 
 self. 
 
 Miss Fetherstone perfunctorily acknowledged 
 the salutation and then, turning to the groom, 
 ordered him to shift the side-saddle to his own 
 horse, and to lead Red Rover slowly and care- 
 fully home. 
 
 "But sure the crutch is broke, Miss," 
 remonstrated Nolan, "an' the flap is split an' 
 the stirrup twisted, an* the girth burst. Ye 
 could no more sit on that saddle than ye could 
 on a cracked walnut." 
 
 "So I'll have to walk home five miles," 
 grumbled the lady. " Pleasant, in a habit and 
 riding boots with my hair all about my ears." 
 
 Gerald could not avoid overhearing, and his 
 chivalry, albeit hitherto so coldly received, 
 flamed up afresh. He was off the car in a 
 moment. 
 
 " If you would care to avail yourself of our 
 jarvey it is very much at your service. We are 
 close to our destination." 
 
 " You are really very kind," responded Kate, 
 receiving this attention with far more warmth 
 than she had shown when it was a mere ques- 
 tion of saving her life. " It's more than good 
 of you, but what will you do? You have 
 luggage? What's to become of it?" 
 
 " It can stay where it is. Moriarty will bring 
 n
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 it to Liscarrick when you have done with him." 
 
 "Are you going to Liscarrick?" she cried 
 with unmistakeable interest. " Are you, I 
 believe you must be Uncle Gerald." 
 
 " From the point of view of Bob and Molly 
 that is my style and title," answered Gerald 
 smiling. 
 
 " I have heard so much of you," she cried 
 eagerly. " Molly is my very greatest friend. 
 I am Miss Fetherstone, you know, of the Priory. 
 You'll have heard of me?" 
 
 "Constantly," he answered. "Molly's 
 letters are full of you." 
 
 " What an extraordinary meeting," she ex- 
 claimed. " Fancy our coming across each other 
 in this unexpected way and you throwing Red 
 Rover down. Have you ever done that sort of 
 thing in California? " 
 
 She did not wait for an answer, but ran on . 
 
 " Did they expect you? I saw Mrs. Delaney 
 only yesterday, and she said nothing about your 
 coming." 
 
 " They know I am in Europe," answered 
 Gerald. " Indeed, I've been in London for ten 
 
 days I and " he looked round for his 
 
 friend, meaning to introduce him, but Whalen 
 was on the other side of the car and he could 
 not catch his eye. " No, I told them not to 
 expect me till they see me. But I'm home at 
 last," he ended with a little laugh. "I left 
 the dear old place at twenty and I'm going 
 back to look at it with the eyes of eight and 
 thirty." 
 
 "And I'm detaining you," said Kate, " It's 
 
 12
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 bad enough to take up your jarvey without 
 taking up your time." 
 
 "We're just at the gate," Gerald answered 
 as he seated her on the car and tucked his rug 
 under her feet. " You're quite sure you're not 
 hurt or or frightened?" 
 
 She smiled brightly in reply. "You must 
 be used to very timid people in California. Tell 
 Molly I'm coming back to tea just as soon as I 
 can get out of this dirty tattered habit. I'll 
 send Moriarty home and drive over myself with 
 your traps." 
 
 She turned to the driver. " To the Priory, 
 Moriarty," she commanded, "and do try to 
 rise a trot or we'll be all day on the road." 
 
 Gerald stood gazing after the receding car 
 till he was roused by Jack Whalen's voice. 
 
 " Well, we've got to foot it, it appears. You 
 know the way, I suppose? " 
 
 "Blindfold!" the otheY replied. "It's no 
 distance anyhow." Then, as they walked, he 
 continued : 
 
 " Why did you keep in the background so? 
 You're not usually so bashful. I wanted to 
 introduce you." 
 
 " I didn't care to spoil sport," Jack answered. 
 " I saw the fair equestrienne had made an im- 
 pression. As for the introduction I'll attend 
 to that myself. She's coming to tea, and I bet 
 you I call her ' Kate ' to her face at our first 
 meeting." 
 
 "Kate," repeated Gerald musingly. "So 
 it is. I had forgotten her name was Kate. 
 How came you to know it? " 
 13
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Because we're first cousins, my boy, though 
 we never met in our lives before." Then, 
 answering the other's look of astonishment, 
 Jack continued: "Yes, old Mike Whalen, dis- 
 tiller of the famous Shamrock blend of whisky, 
 was grandfather to both of us, though I'm a 
 working journalist in 'Frisco and she's a 
 Princess, or something like it in Ireland. I'll 
 tell you the whole story some time. Is this 
 Liscarrick? What a stunning entrance!" 
 
 "Yes," replied Gerald, somewhat sadly. 
 " The remains of vanished splendour," and he 
 led the way up the broad avenue whose every 
 tree was linked in his mind with some boyish 
 memory.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 GERALD DELANEY'S HOME-COMING. 
 
 MOLLY Delaney sat in the window of the 
 library at Liscarrick catching the last of the 
 fading light on a tea cloth, whose many worn 
 places she was doing her best to darn. She was 
 singing softly to herself as she wrought, for 
 though her life had little to brighten it, the 
 spirits of an Irish girl of twenty are not easily 
 damped, and the shadow of dreams half dreamed 
 were lurking in the depths of her soft blue eyes. 
 Dreams never to be realised, perhaps, for who 
 ever came to Liscarrick save duns, while all 
 the sordid cares of contrivance and management 
 fell, as they had fallen before she had left the 
 schoolroom, on those young shoulders. 
 
 " Well nurse, what is it now ? " she exclaimed, 
 looking up from her work as an old woman 
 entered. This was Mrs. Kilkelly who had 
 nursed Molly and her brother, and their father 
 before them, and who, with a couple of country 
 wenches in training as maid servants, and a 
 superannuated butler, constituted the sole 
 domestic staff of the Delaneys. 
 
 " Sorra bit of good at all at all can I get out 
 of Judy, Miss Molly," the old woman grumbled. 
 " She has me destroyed entirely listening to 
 her, so I just gave her a fig to put to her jaw
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 and towld her to. lie down out o' that an lave 
 me way." 
 
 " Good gracious! You don't mean to tell me 
 she has toothache again," exclaimed Molly, still 
 stitching industriously. 
 
 " Agen, is it? Sure is she ever without it? " 
 
 " I hope so for her own sake," answered 
 Molly laughing. "But it's really terribly in- 
 convenient to-day of all days. Of course, I'm 
 sorry for the girl's toothache, and all that, but 
 the hounds meet at Tullymaine to-day, and 
 Bob's safe to bring some of them in to tea." 
 
 " To-day, is it? " shrieked Mrs. Kilkelly, quite 
 understanding that it was not some of the 
 hounds but some of the hunters whose company 
 might be expected. "To-day, is it? Well, 
 I've med a nice hot cake, an' I'll bring in tay 
 meself, wid the help of Larry." 
 
 " Nurse, you're a brick," cried Molly. 
 " We'll be all right, and I don't suppose there'll 
 be more than two or three extra maybe none 
 at all." 
 
 "Maybe not, Miss; sure God's good,' 
 assented Mrs. Kilkelly as she turned to go. She 
 was a bulky woman, and moved slowly. As 
 she reached the door she stopped. " Musha, 
 but I was forgetting the very thing I kem for. 
 Here's yer pound, Miss leastways, what's left 
 of it. Ah, many's the time I've said spend a 
 penny out of a sovereign, an' it'll never be a 
 sovereign agen." 
 
 "Couldn't you get any eggs at all?" in- 
 quired Molly anxiously. 
 
 ' ;<J OnIy a few, miss. The hens take no 
 16
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 interest at all in anything in Advent. A body 
 would think it was Christians they were. Billy 
 Paddy come to the dure an' I tuk what he had." 
 
 The girl told over her change with a length- 
 ening face. 
 
 "Sixteen and tuppence! Three and ten for 
 eggs. There, put it on the mantel' piece, nurse, 
 and here's your tea cloth. It's the best I can do 
 with it." 
 
 As Molly rose, her chair subsided sharply and 
 unexpectedly to one side, and it needed an active 
 spring, which she emphasised with a little 
 scream, to save her from falling. She looked 
 ruefully down at the chair, which was reposing 
 in a drunken attitude on three legs of normal 
 length and one considerably shorter. 
 
 "Bother take this chair," she cried impa- 
 tiently, then, stooping to inspect the cause of 
 the upset, continued: "A cork! Well, what 
 next? Fancy putting a cork to prop the short 
 leg. Where's that boot heel?" 
 
 " Oh, the dear Lord knows. Judy done out 
 the room this morning, and she's herself," 
 lamented Mrs. Kilkelly, as she slowly and labor- 
 iously got down on her knees and searched under 
 table and sofa for the missing makeshift. Molly 
 joined in the quest, and as she moved chairs 
 and lifted rugs the condition of some of the 
 furniture moved her to inquire : 
 
 "Did this leg ever have a castor like the 
 other three? " 
 
 " Ah, that was afore your time, Miss Molly," 
 panted Mrs. Kilkelly. "Your Uncle, Master 
 Gerald, tuk that castor to make a wheel for his 
 17
 
 .WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 little cannon, an' sorra one has ever seen it 
 since." 
 
 "Then, considering how rich uncle Gerald 
 is, I wouldn't thank him to give us a new chair." 
 
 This fiction of Gerald's wealth was a very 
 vivid reality to the young Delaneys, who had 
 spoken so long and so often of their rich uncle 
 in California that it had come to be accepted 
 in the neighbourhood as a well established fact. 
 Indeed, to most people, it seemed the most 
 natural thing in the world. A young man had 
 gone out to America to make his fortune and 
 had made it. The marvel would have been had 
 he done otherwise. Many a young fellow had 
 left Drine, setting his face westward, and had 
 achieved what passed, in this unenlightened 
 and poverty-stricken district, for fame and for- 
 tune. All Americans were rich. This was an 
 axiom which no one doubted. Everyone who 
 went to America grew rich in time. Plenty of 
 instances could be quoted. Those who failed 
 sank out of sight and were never heard of. So 
 nurse accepted Molly's reference to Gerald's 
 wealth without cavil or question. 
 
 " A new chair, miss! It's a new set of furni- 
 ture he'd be afther sending if he thought it 
 would plaze ye. A freer handed young gentle- 
 man than Master Gerald never scattered goold 
 and silver." 
 
 "A whole new set! Can such things be?" 
 mused Molly wistfully, as she disposed a sofa 
 cushion so as to conceal a wofully worn patch 
 in the saving cover. " Was this furniture ever 
 new?" 
 
 18
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Glory be here's the boot heel ! " cried Mrs. 
 Kilkelly exultantly. " The untidy sthreel, to 
 go an' stick it in under the ottoman like that." 
 She proceeded to adjust the time honoured prop 
 under the leg of the chair, to which it gave 
 just the requisite height and stability, and then 
 turned to resume her conversation with Molly. 
 " I niver mind the day when this was what ye'd 
 call all out new," she said, embracing the con- 
 tents of the room with a comprehensive gesture ; 
 " It was better in ways like that castor, but I 
 niver mind its being so good that there wasn't 
 a chance for cleverness and contrivance." 
 
 "Cleverness and contrivance!" repeated 
 Molly. "That's what we live on here! I 
 suppose it will always be so." She smothered 
 a sigh and spoke more briskly. "Time's get- 
 ting on, nurse. Is tea all ready to come up if 
 anyone arrives ? ' ' 
 
 " Maybe ye'd slip down to the dairy, Miss, 
 an 1 skim a sup of cream for the tay. What 
 between Judy an' me cake, I haven't a minute." 
 
 " All right, nurse; you cut along. I'll see to 
 it. Oh, by the way, I suppose there's nothing 
 but the cold mutton for dinner? " 
 
 As she spoke Molly was moving round the 
 room, straightening a saving-cover here, re- 
 moving a speck of dust there, and generally 
 endeavouring to make the place look what she 
 would call "a little more presentable." 
 
 " I cud make a hash of the mutton sure," 
 answered Mrs. Kilkelly. " Och, well I remem- 
 ber the time when a score might drop in for 
 dinner at Liscarrick all unbeknownst, an' ate
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 and drink of the best lashins an' lavinsof it "" 
 
 " I hate to hear that kind of talk," interrupted 
 Molly. " If there had been less of that in the 
 good old times, as you call them, there'd be 
 more for us to-day. Now nurse, I'm off to the 
 dairy!" 
 
 11 An' I've that much to do I dunno what to 
 lay me hand to first," said Mrs. Kilkelly, 
 pausing, nevertheless, to cast a glance out of 
 the window. She drew back in consternation. 
 
 " Miss Molly, Miss Molly alannah, there's 
 two gintlemen walking up the avenue." 
 
 "Strangers?" queried Molly, tiptoeing to 
 the window. 
 
 " I niver seen either of them afore." 
 
 " Nor I. I'm off to the dairy, nurse. Say 
 there's no one in. I don't know where Mamma 
 is, and Bob's out anyhow." And Molly made 
 for the door. 
 
 " But Miss Molly. Sure I dunno, maybe 
 they've come a long way. Ought I ax them 
 stay an' have a bit of dinner? " 
 
 11 If you dare. Do you want to disgrace the 
 house when you know there's nothing but 
 hashed mutton ! Now, Nurse ! I leave it to 
 your native tact to deal with the situation." 
 And Molly fled. 
 
 "Glory be!" ejaculated the old woman, 
 wringing her hands. " What'll I do at all, 
 at all? If they've come for a visit an' the 
 misthress has no more head nor a hen. Sure 
 God's good. Maybe they've med a mistake! " 
 
 The sonorous peal of the door bell echoed 
 through the house, and Mrs. Kilkelly waddled 
 
 20
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 out into the hall, there encountering Larry, the 
 butler, on his way to answer the summons. 
 
 " I dunno who it is, Larry. Two gentlemen ! 
 Be sure ye find out their names! " 
 
 Jack happened to be foremost as Larry opened 
 the door. 
 
 " Is Mrs. Delaney at home? " he inquired in 
 the tone and manner of an afternoon caller. 
 
 Larry only stared. Mrs. Kilkelly came for- 
 ward. 
 
 " I I don't rightly know, Sir," and then, in 
 a swift aside to Larry, she added: " Did ye ax 
 them their names?" 
 
 "Sure, I didn't like," replied the butler, 
 deprecatingly. 
 
 "Ah, ye beauty I" whispered Mrs. Kilkelly 
 vindictively. " It's a pity yer mother hadn't 
 twins of ye." 
 
 Gerald, who had recognised the two old ser- 
 vants at a glance, realised that he had grown 
 out of their recollection. As he advanced with 
 assured step into the hall, both were plainly non- 
 plussed. 
 
 "The misthress is expectin* ye, maybe, sir?" 
 ventured Mrs. Kilkelly. 
 
 " I don't think so." 
 
 A pause ensued which Gerald, alone of the 
 company, seemed to enjoy. Nevertheless, he 
 was the first to break it. 
 
 " I suppose you have other rooms here besides 
 this hall?" 
 
 " Other other rooms, is it?" Mrs. Kilkelly 
 nearly choked in her indignation. " Larry, 
 show these gentlemen into the back drawing-
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 robm leastways, I suppose they are gentle- 
 men," she added in a purposely audible 
 aside, "but the Lord alone knows. Miss 
 Molly'll be here presently," continued the old 
 woman, following the travellers into the room. 
 11 She's below in the she's at the present time 
 she's down " 
 
 But Larry, who was quite aware of Molly's 
 occupation at the moment, and who had no idea 
 of allowing nurse to dim the glories of Liscarrick 
 by any unguarded admissions, covered his fel- 
 low servant's confusion. 
 
 " Miss Molly's at the meet of the foxhounds 
 at Tullymaine at this present ridin' out wid 
 her groom." 
 
 "Yes, sir," exclaimed nurse, quick to adopt 
 the hint and improve upon it. " I seen her 
 ridin' off; she was wearin' her grand new habit 
 from Dublin." 
 
 " An' a hat wid a cockade," added Larry, 
 not to be outdone. 
 
 " Will ye whist wid yer cockade that was 
 the groom." 
 
 " Av' course it was the groom," confirmed 
 the unabashed Larry. "Would Miss Delaney, 
 of Liscarrick, wear the like?" 
 
 Mrs. Kilkelly resumed her explanation. 
 
 " An' the misthress is lyin' down wid a severe 
 headache. An' Master Bob his honour, I mane 
 is out wid the hounds. If it was a thing 
 they'd been expectin' yez, gentlemen, sure 
 they'd have left orders; but maybe yer honours 
 would be plazed to take a cup of tay, or a small 
 drop of whisky and water afore drivin' further."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "That's the cold kick out," whispered Jack. 
 "What about your Irish welcome now, eh? 
 I've had warmer." 
 
 "Just note the transformation," answered 
 Gerald in the same tone, and he turned to Mrs. 
 Kilkelly. " I should like a cup of tea, nurse, 
 and some of that potato cake of yours, if you 
 haven't lost the secret." 
 
 The two servants exchanged glances of amaze- 
 ment almost of consternation. 
 
 " Glory be," exclaimed nurse; " he mustn't 
 be right. How did he know I med one this 
 very day." 
 
 " Guessed it, tho' I haven't tasted one for 
 eighteen years," cried Gerald, heartily. 
 " Why, nurse, is if possible you have forgot- 
 ten Master Gerald? " 
 
 The poor old thing fell into such a flutter of 
 agitation and delight that Gerald would have 
 apologised for his mystification if he could have 
 stemmed the torrent of her welcome. Shaking 
 and crooning in her excitement she fitted on her 
 spectacles and came close to him, peering into 
 his face, and pouring forth exclamations and 
 blessings : 
 
 " Mother of mercy! It's Master Gerald; it's 
 Master Gerald himself, that I carried in these 
 arms when he wasn't the height of a candle. 
 Oh, God's good, God's good ! He was the 
 swatest child of all the childher ever I nursed 
 an' he's come back to us, a fine grand gentle- 
 man. Ah, me boy, me beautiful boy!" 
 
 She broke off to seize his hand and cover it 
 with kisses, while the tears rolled unheeded 
 23
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 down her wrinkled cheeks. Gerald bent down 
 and kissed the old woman, but her emotion 
 was not to be checked. 
 
 She stepped back, weeping and shaking, and 
 stood with clasped hands raised as though in 
 prayer or blessing, and with her streaming eyes 
 fixed on her nurseling's face. 
 
 Larry, who had been eagerly awaiting his 
 turn, stepped forward and wrung Gerald's hand. 
 Though earnest enough, there was something 
 quaint in the old fellow's manner which changed 
 the atmosphere from tears to smiles with the 
 quickness of an April day. 
 
 " It's welcome home, ye are, yer honour, an' 
 now I hope you've come to live among us and 
 that ye'll bring a beautiful lady to Liscarrick 
 that'll hand down the name of Delaney to all 
 posterity. Musha, but I'd have walked bare- 
 foot to Dublin to see this day." 
 
 " And yet you didn't know me, Larry," said 
 Gerald smiling. 
 
 "Know ye!" cried Larry with conviction, 
 " sure I'd know yer honour if I met ye blind- 
 fold in the black midnight." 
 
 "So I perceived," said Gerald drily. " And 
 this is my friend Mr. Jack Whalen, Larry, 
 who has come with me all the way from Cali- 
 fornia." 
 
 " He's a fine young gentleman, yer honour," 
 remarked Larry with ready politeness, "an' 
 very light complected to come from them parts. 
 Sure I thought they was all naygurs out there." 
 " Mr. Whalen is an Irishman too; half Irish, 
 at any rate," answered Gerald. 
 24
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Musha, but half Irish is a good mixture, 
 even if the other half was nothing better nor 
 water. Yer sarvint, sir," he added, with a duck 
 of the head in Jack's direction; "Whalen's 
 a name highly thought of in these parts, an' 
 Whalen's Shamrock Blend has given me many 
 a sore head afore this day." 
 
 "Where's everybody? Where's the mis- 
 tress, nurse," Gerald asked. 
 
 " She's above in her room dressing, sir. But 
 I'll tell Miss Molly you're here," added the 
 old woman moving towards the door. 
 
 " You mean, you'll tell her when she returns 
 from hunting," suggested Gerald slyly. 
 
 " Ah, go on out of that! Ye know rightly." 
 And Mrs. Kilkelly, all traces of recent tears 
 banished from her smiling face, ambled forth 
 on her errand. 
 
 "Ah, yer honour," cried Larry in~ reminis- 
 cent mood, "there'll be grand doings now we 
 have yourself home agen. D'ye mind the day 
 when your brother may his soul be in glory 
 this day give the big dance after Mr. Bob 
 was born." 
 
 "I remember it well, Larry; but I don't 
 think you were in a condition to recall it 
 accurately." 
 
 " Deed then I mind it all punctually. There 
 was a big cask of porther an' a smaller one of 
 whisky 'ithout in the yard, an' a tin cup tied 
 to the bunghole. No questions axed but help 
 yerself, an' bonfires all down the avenue, an' 
 thriumphant arches, and not a man went to bed 
 sober that night in the Barony of Liscarrick." 
 25
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Such, Jack, were our simple rural joys," 
 observed Gerald. 
 
 "Ah," wailed Larry, "if we'd only got the 
 wind of the word yerself was comin', we'd have 
 had the whole Barony at the gates, an' the arches 
 an' all." 
 
 " Including the whisky and the porter and the 
 drunken men? I don't doubt it. You see, 
 Jack, there was method in my madness when I 
 declined to name a day for our arrival." And 
 as Larry withdrew, Gerald continued. "Well, 
 what do you think of it all? " 
 
 " I think it's a dear old place," answered Jack 
 with enthusiasm. 
 
 " I suppose it is at least to me. It is just 
 as I left it. Nothing ever changes here. Even 
 nurse and Larry don't seem a day older. The 
 furniture the very nick-nacks are the same. 
 Things get broken but they don't get mended 
 or replaced." He lifted an armchair and 
 peeped under it. "I thought so. I stole a 
 castor off that chair to rig up a toy cannon when 
 I was eleven, and someone replaced it with a 
 boot heel . Behold it ! That clock on the mantel 
 has pointed to nine minutes past seven as long 
 as I can remember." 
 
 As they stood amused and wondering there 
 was a rustle of draperies, and Molly paused in 
 the doorway. 
 
 She looked from one to the other. She had 
 been told her uncle Gerald was in the library, 
 but here were two men, both equafly strangers 
 to her, and she knew not which to greet. She 
 had run all the way from the dairy, through 
 26
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 the labyrinth of stone passages that led from 
 the front of Liscarrick to its spacious back offices, 
 ready with the warmest of welcomes and per- 
 chance a kiss for her uncle Gerald. Now, 
 checked in her impulse, she halted on the thres- 
 hold, uncertain whether to advance or retire. 
 There was a slight flush on her cheeks, she was 
 breathing a little quickly, and felt uncomfortably 
 conscious of the long apron she had tied over 
 her blue frock and had not stopped to remove. 
 So standing, she made a charming picture, and 
 so thought both of the men who were privileged 
 to gaze upon it. 
 
 "Well, Molly you are Molly, I suppose," 
 said Gerald. " I've got home at last, you see." 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Gerald, you are welcome, wel- 
 come, welcome home. You don't know how 
 glad I am to see you." 
 
 She ran to him and threw her arms round his 
 neck, giving him a kiss for each " welcome." 
 
 " And so this is Molly," said Gerald, return- 
 ing her warm greeting with real affection. " I 
 mustn't call you ' Baby ' any longer, I suppose." 
 
 " You'd never have known me, would you ? " 
 asked she. 
 
 "Well, considering you were rising three 
 when I left home, a little shaver in cocktail petti- 
 coats, I can't truthfully say that I should. Now 
 you are let me see eighteeen and two are 
 but I mustn't give a lady's age away. Molly, 
 this is my friend, Jack Whalen. We were chums 
 all through the Manchurian campaign, and for 
 many a day before it. Jack, my niece, Miss 
 Delaney." 
 
 37
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Welcome to Liscarrick, Mr. Whalen," said 
 Molly, frankly extending a little hand which 
 Jack was not slow to seize. " I hope you have 
 come to make us a long visit." 
 
 The journalist's usually ready tongue tripped 
 and faltered over a few phrases of commonplace 
 acknowledgment, but he was spared further 
 embarrassment by the appearance of Mrs. 
 Delaney. 
 
 Molly's mother had been a pretty girl, and 
 at five and forty she was a pretty woman still. 
 It would be unfair to enquire how far art assisted 
 nature in preserving her good looks, for she 
 never appeared till late in the day, by which 
 time her roses were always in bloom. Not very 
 brilliant, fond of admiration, good hearted and 
 incapable, it was easy to understand how Lis- 
 carrick, under her invertebrate sway, grew 
 shabbier and dingier, all unnoticed by its mis- 
 tress, who was constitutionally inclined to take 
 things as they came and leave them so. 
 
 Greetings and introductions followed as be- 
 fore, and presently, refreshments having been 
 declined, Larry was summoned to show the 
 gentlemen to their rooms. Jack was taken in 
 charge by the garrulous old servant, but Gerald, 
 declaring that he needed no one to show him 
 the way, lingered a few minutes in conversation 
 with his sister-in-law and his niece. 
 
 " Neighbourhood, my dear! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Delaney in answer to a remark of Gerald's. 
 "Don't speak of it! There is none. The 
 Boyles have gone, and so have the O'Reillys. 
 Cecil Haviland has sold everything and gone to 
 28
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Australia, and the Desmonds are living in 
 lodgings in Boulogne, and daren't cross the 
 channel. They write sometimes and say there 
 is no lack of cheerful society they call Boulogne 
 the town of broken English. No, there's no- 
 body left." 
 
 "There's Kate Fetherstone, mamma," put 
 in Molly. 
 
 "Yes, there's Kate Fetherstone; a charming 
 girl at least, she's eight and twenty I daresay, 
 and lives at the Priory with her companion, 
 Mrs. Purvis, She's rich oh, absurdly rich. 
 She owns Whalen's Distillery, or the greater 
 part of it Shamrock Blend, you know. It's 
 advertised everywhere." 
 
 " I made her acquaintance at Corragh 
 Bridge," remarked Gerald. "She was riding 
 and the horse fell lame, so I lent her our car. 
 She said she'd drive over here to tea and bring 
 our luggage." 
 
 "You walked, then?" asked Mrs. Delaney. 
 
 " Only from the gate," he replied. 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Gerald," Molly broke in, "I'm 
 so glad you were civil and nice to her. I know 
 you'll like her. Wait till you know her." 
 
 " I mean to," said Gerald. " And is Miss 
 Fetherstone your only neighbour?" 
 
 " Well, there's Mr. O'Hara, a great friend of 
 Bob's. He's a very lively and entertaining 
 young man." 
 
 "Mr. O'Hara! Mamma means old Mat 
 O'Hara's son, from Ballintubber," said Molly 
 contemptuously. 
 
 " Mat O'Hara's son, from Ballintubber," re- 
 29
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 peated Gerald aghast. " You don't mean to 
 say that he visits here." 
 
 " My dear Gerald, times have changed," ex- 
 plained Mrs. Delaney. " Mr. O'Hara's uncle 
 in Australia died a couple of years ago and left 
 him very well off." 
 
 "But Mat O'Hara's son!" objected Gerald. 
 
 " Gerald, you are so prejudiced," complained 
 his sister-in-law. 
 
 " What sort is he? I only remember him as 
 a bare-legged gossoon." 
 
 " Oh, he's blossomed out into a sort of 
 squireen since he got his money," said Molly. 
 " He rides to hounds when he's sober enough; 
 goes to the big meetings at Leopardstown and 
 Punchestown, and has his whisky a good deal 
 of it, too down from Dublin." 
 
 "And comes to tea at Liscarrick," added 
 Gerald. " Well, Emmie, I think I'll go and 
 wash my hands. I can always repeat the opera- 
 tion after I have shaken hands with Matthew 
 O'Hara, Esq. The pink room, I think you 
 said? All right. I'll be down again directly."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MAT O'HARA OF BALLINTUBBER. 
 
 DURING his father's life time Mat O'Hara with 
 much distaste and under sore compulsion, had 
 worked hard on the farm, and dreamed dreams 
 of a future in which cattle and mangolds bore 
 no part. When the place came to him on the 
 old man's death he exchanged his fustian and 
 corduroys for a smart riding suit and top boots, 
 and quickly developed a pretty taste for whisky 
 and horseflesh. As Molly had hinted, he at- 
 tended the principal race meetings, and ordered 
 his " groceries " in Dublin. For a time all 
 went well, or seemed to do so, but wise old 
 neighbours shook their heads and opined that 
 young Mat was " making ducks and drakes 
 of one of the purtiest farms in the county." 
 And soon it became known that the crops on 
 Ballintubber were mortgaged ere they had well 
 sprouted, and the line of fine cows that had once 
 trooped lowing each evening to the byre had 
 dwindled to one sorry beast. In short, Mat's 
 ruin had come within easily measurable distance, 
 and the countryside was already preparing to 
 attend the inevitable auction sale at Ballin- 
 tubber, when the unexpected happened and, in 
 the words of a farmer who felt defrauded of 
 prospective bargains, " the divil stepped in to 
 take care of his ~wn."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Old Con O'Hara, whose personality and 
 whose very name had faded into tradition in the 
 county, died suddenly in Ballarat, and left young 
 Mat heir to all his savings. 
 
 Now came a change. The fires burned bright 
 again in the Ballintubber household; steeds of 
 price champed their bits in the modernized 
 stables ; whisky galore once more gladdened its 
 visitors, and Mat O'Hara, developing from an 
 unpleasant chrysalis into a still more objection- 
 able butterfly, managed to have himself placed 
 on the commission of the peace, dubbed himself 
 Esquire, and assumed all the airs and they are 
 not few of an Irish Squireen. 
 
 By the way, it was from Larry that Jack 
 Whalen, at a later date, and apropos of Mr. 
 O'Hara, elicited the following fairly compre- 
 hensive definition of a squireen. 
 
 "A squireen, sir?" said the old man rub- 
 bing his head; "well, ye see, a squireen's not 
 a gintleman not but what he dresses like one ; 
 an' he's not a farmer not but what he talks like 
 one; he has more impidence nor an attorney an' 
 less manners nor a chimney sweep, an' nobody 
 thinks anything of him but himself, an' he 
 he just thinks he's doin' the divil an' all the 
 whole time." 
 
 But Mat O'Hara, passing rich with his uncle's 
 twenty thousand pounds, which local gossip 
 magnified as usual to a fortune of a quarter 
 million, cared for nobody or nothing, rode his 
 horses, drank his whisky, and nourished his 
 secret ambition of marrying into one of the 
 32
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 county families and becoming a " real gentle- 
 man." 
 
 It was at this period of his career that he be- 
 came on intimate terms with Bob Delaney. 
 There was some excuse for Bob. He was very 
 young barely one and twenty; Mat was some 
 eight years older and he shared the other's 
 tastes, that for whiskey fortunately excepted. He 
 had scarcely any other available companion, 
 and was wholly without resources within him- 
 self. His education had been wofully neg- - 
 lected. He just straggled up like a weed, as 
 too many young fellows do in the remoter parts 
 of Ireland, well born, a good shot, a Hashing 
 rider, and nothing else. 
 
 It was about twelve months after O'Hara's 
 accession to fortune and nearly half as many 
 before Gerald's return, that a conversation was 
 held in the too hospitable parlour at Ballin- 
 tubber, the consequences of which were destined 
 to entail serious trouble and perplexity to the 
 family at Liscarrick. 
 
 Bob Delaney had ridden over to consult his 
 friend, whose superior age and " knowingness " 
 he still held in much respect, on some question 
 connected with an ailing spaniel. The two were 
 seated at the stout oaken table in O'Hara's only 
 sitting room, discussing steaming tumblers of 
 whisky punch while their talk range'd over many 
 topics. 
 
 The furniture was heavy and bld-fashione3, 
 such as may be found in many an Irish farm- 
 house of the better class. This was all un- 
 changed since the old man's day. Unchanged, 
 
 33 
 
 c
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 too, was the carpet, now ragged and inexpres- 
 sibly dirty. Mat O'Hara had, so far, brought 
 no neat handed Phyllis to reign at Ballintubber. 
 
 11 I was up in town last Thursday," Mat was 
 saying, " an' I had another look at that colt of 
 Flannagan's. May I niver ate another bit if 
 there's the like of him in the three counties." 
 
 " Remember, it was I saw him first," cried 
 Bob, eagerly. 
 
 " Who's denying it? I always said ye had a 
 good eye for a horse, youngster an' all as ye 
 are ; but a throughbred's a thing I like to look 
 at wid me own eyes especially when the price 
 runs into four figures." 
 
 " Four figures," repeated Bob, aghast. 
 
 " Divil a lie in it. Two thousand he was 
 axing guineas at that, an' I bet him down to 
 sixteen hundred pounds an' a tenner back for 
 luck. Lower than that he won't go, an' I don't 
 blame him. Look at the breeding of him ! By 
 Firefly out of an Oaks winner. Why, it's a 
 gift, I call it. He'll win his own money in 
 stakes afore he's a four year old." 
 
 At this tempting prospect Bob's eyes 
 glistened. 
 
 "Why don't you buy him, Mat? You 
 ought." 
 
 " I mean to, but I'm not forgettin' 'twas you 
 found him. Ye ought to be in this, Bob, by 
 G d you ought." 
 
 Bob pondered. The idea dazzled him, but 
 he knew too well that eight hundred pounds 
 was a sum beyond him. 
 
 " You're a real decent chap, Mat," he said, 
 
 34
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 at last, "but it's no go. I could no more find 
 the half of sixteen hundred pounds than I could 
 pay the National Debt. Buy the horse, old 
 fellow, run him ; let me stand in twenty or a 
 hundred, or whatever I can raise on his first 
 certainty, and you won't owe me anything." 
 
 " Look at here, Bob but first fill your naggin, 
 the materials are at yer elbow. Help yerself an' 
 pass the bottle." 
 
 Then, when the glasses were replenished, 
 O'Hara resumed. " Ye don't know what a 
 good thing you're missing. Wait till I tell ye. 
 Ye may belave I didn't have all that ould chat 
 with Flannagan without getting something out 
 of him. He said, sez he this was at the latther 
 end of the discoorse when I had him bet down 
 as far as he'd go ' Well, take him at yer own 
 price, Misther O'Hara; I know ye'll trate the 
 little harse well an' run him straight, an' if I 
 didn't I wouldn't sell him for twiced the money. 
 His dam niver was beat at anything like fair 
 weights, an' no more was his sire. There's been 
 good ones bred out of that pair, but niver the 
 aquil of this one, an' its a fortin' I'm offering 
 ye this day take it or lave it.' ' 
 
 "What's the good of telling me all this?" 
 said Bob, fretfully. " I believe in the horse as 
 much as you do, or Flannigan either; but I 
 tell you I haven't a hundred pounds no nor 
 ten, to sport at the present moment." 
 
 " Don't let that stop you," cried the Host, 
 draining his tumbler. " Mat O'Hara's no half- 
 way friend. Here's yer chance, and may I 
 niver ate another bit if I'm going to let ye miss 
 
 35
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 it. I'll buy the little harse; sure I've plinty, 
 an' if ye haven't the dirty coppers in yer pocket 
 this minnit, sure it won't always be so, plaze 
 God. You shall have your half in the ventur 
 an' ye'll give me your note for eight hundred at 
 whatever interest ye think right, and be jabers 
 I can't say fairer nor that." 
 
 " Do you mean it, Mat? " shouted Bob with 
 heightening colour and sparkling eyes. 
 
 " Mat O'Hara's word is his bond," replied 
 the other, replenishing his glass. " We'll go 
 into 'Torney McMaster an' get the papers drawn 
 up not but what I hate the like between gentle- 
 men, but sure what can we do? An' we'll just 
 step in at Liscarrick on the way back an' wet the 
 bargain." 
 
 This last suggestion gave young Delaney 
 pause. Enthusiastic as he was at the prospect 
 of becoming part owner of " the little harse," 
 and flushed with a quite unusual quantity of 
 whiskey punch, he could not but remember that 
 O'Hara had never yet set foot within the man- 
 sion of Liscarrick as a guest, and he had grave 
 misgivings as to his mother's and sister's views 
 of such an introduction. But in the good fellow- 
 ship of the moment, and still glowing with a 
 sense of his host's unexpected generosity it was 
 difficult to frame a plausible excuse. So there 
 was only a moment's pause before he replied, 
 with a fair assumption of cordiality. 
 
 " That we will; wet it with the best in the 
 house, and drink the colt's health into the 
 bargain." 
 
 "More power to ye," cried Mat. " To- 
 36
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 morrow's a go, and as we'll drink his health in 
 good ould liquor in the good ould house, 
 begorra, we'll christen him after it. The colt 
 shall be called ' Liscarrick,' an' shall run in 
 the colours of Robert Delaney and Matthew 
 O'Hara, Esquires, an' if he doesn't pull off 
 Punchestown next spring, call me a lepre- 
 chaun." 
 
 The colt's health was toasted in his native 
 liquor as they called it, and Mat saw his friend 
 safely mounted and started on his homeward 
 road. 
 
 Then he returned to the house and thought 
 over what he had done. 
 
 Mat O'Hara did not lack cunning, and tho' 
 eight hundred pounds was a stiff price to pay, 
 he did not grudge it. For the entree at Liscar- 
 rick meant to him the first step on the ladder of 
 his lofty ambition. And, of course, if the 
 worst came to the worst, Robert Delaney was 
 still good, under legal pressure if necessary, for 
 such a comparatively trifling amount. 
 
 And as Bob rode homeward through the 
 gathering dusk his brain was aglow with 
 ecstatic visions. He saw the crowded race 
 course ; he saw the gay jackets of the jockeys ; 
 he heard the thunder of the flying hoofs as the 
 horses flashed by. And louder than all, gather- 
 ing in volume as a dark chestnut drew further 
 and further ahead, he heard the swelling cry 
 from a thousand throats " Liscarrick! Liscar- 
 rick ! Liscarrick wins ! " 
 
 He fancied that he was himself riding the 
 winner to triumph and pressed his pony on in a 
 
 37
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 wild gallop through the gloom. But he drew 
 rein as he passed the gates and jogged up the 
 avenue soberly enough. The eight hundred 
 pound bill he was ready and willing to sign, at 
 any date and bearing any interest. Bob was 
 but twenty-one, and at no period of life had any 
 of his blood been remarkable for prudence. 
 But there was another condition attached to his 
 bargain, and how was his mother likely to 
 receive such a guest as Mat O'Hara. 
 
 After all, he need not have troubled himself 
 on this score. Mrs. Delaney felt her life too 
 lonely to be over particular. A handsome, well- 
 set-up young man like O'Hara and in these 
 respects nature had been prodigal in her gifts to 
 the Squireen could not fail to waken interest 
 of one kind or another in the mind of an idle, 
 foolish woman. She knew Mat by appearance 
 and by common repute. She knew he was a 
 wild, harum-scarum fellow, much given to dogs 
 and horses, but she had never happened to hear 
 that he was a harder drinker than ordinary, and 
 of any darker episodes in his life she was com- 
 pletely ignorant. It was from Molly that the 
 chief objection to the proposed introduction 
 arose, and she was vehement and outspoken in 
 her criticisms. 
 
 "Mat O'Hara!" she cried. "I wonder at 
 you, Bob. I should think Papa would turn in 
 his grave if he were here listening to you now." 
 
 In her excitement Molly ignored the limita- 
 tions of time and space, but her meaning was 
 clear enough. 
 
 11 Molly, dear, control yourself," urged her 
 38
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 mother. " Who is there in this desert to know 
 or care whom we receive ? ' ' 
 
 " I care," said Molly doggedly. 
 
 " Hang it, Molly, he's a friend of mine," 
 cried Bob. 
 
 " More shame for you," answered the girl. 
 
 " Mr. O'Hara is very well off since his uncle 
 died, and he is such a handsome man," pursued 
 Mrs. Delaney. 
 
 " Mamma, dear, can't you see? " cried Molly 
 impatiently. " Even if the creature were a 
 gentleman, which he's not and never will be, 
 he's no business here. We are two women 
 living in this great place, and we must be care- 
 ful whom we receive. It isn't as if there were 
 a man in the house." 
 
 "I'm here," asserted Bob. 
 
 " Oh you ! It's you've brought this on us! 
 You're only a brat of a boy," ejaculated Molly 
 contemptuously, a reply which reduced her 
 brother to speechless indignation and left 
 him feeling helplessly for that dilatory 
 moustache. 
 
 " Your Uncle Gerald talks of paying us a 
 visit as soon as he can get away from this 
 wretched war," observed Mrs. Delaney, on 
 whom Molly's last argument had produced some 
 impression. " I hope he'll make a good long 
 stay when he comes." 
 
 " So do I," echoed Molly; " someone's badly 
 wanted here. Everything's at sixes and sevens. 
 I wonder what he'll say when he finds Mat 
 O'Hara's clodhopping feet under his brother's 
 dining table." 
 
 39
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Hold your tongue, Molly!" cried Bob 
 angrily. 
 
 But Molly's Irish temper was all aflame. 
 
 " He's nothing but a low, drunken squireen. 
 I pray night and morning that Uncle Gerald 
 may come, and come soon. I think I can picture 
 the reception he will give Mat O'Hara." 
 
 And with flaming cheeks and shining eyes, 
 Molly flounced out of the room. 
 
 Bob looked at his mother, and his mother 
 looked at Bob. The latter shrugged his 
 shoulders, lit one of the cheap cigars he affected, 
 and observed : 
 
 " Here's the deuce and all of a ruction all 
 about nothing. Wait till Molly gets to know 
 Mat. She'll find he's just as good a sort as the 
 next one." 
 
 But Molly did not make the acquaintance of 
 the owner of Ballintubber on this occasion. 
 She had ordered the pony trap, gone to her 
 room to pack her bag, and within half an hour 
 was well on her way to the Priory, where 
 she had a standing invitation to come as often 
 and stay as long as she pleased. 
 
 40
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SANCTUARY. 
 
 THE style and scale of living at the Priory 
 afforded a marked contrast to that prevailing at 
 Liscarrick. At Miss Fetherstone's home wealth 
 and luxury had done much to smooth the 
 asperities of life in an Irish western county. 
 Soft piled carpets caressed the foot; easy chairs 
 and lounges, with no ingenious boot heel or 
 cork to simulate a false security, invited repose; 
 a bountiful table and well trained servants were 
 there to welcome the visitor, and the whole 
 manage moved on its well-oiled wheels with a 
 smoothness that soothed like a rest-cure the 
 jangled nerves of poor harassed Molly. 
 
 She entered the morning room, where Kate 
 Fetherstone was sitting with her friend and 
 companion, Mrs. Purvis, as abruptly and tem- 
 pestuously as a whirlwind, for the five miles' 
 drive had not been quite long enough to wholly 
 calm her impetuous temper. 
 
 " Why, Molly dear, how late you are," said 
 Kate rising and kissing her. " Have you had 
 tea?" 
 
 Mrs. Purvis had risen too, and her hand was 
 on the bell. 
 
 " Bother tea," cried outspoken Molly. " Oh, 
 41
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 I beg your pardon. I don't care about any. 
 Don't trouble, Mrs. Purvis, please. I've 
 brought my bag, Kate, and I'm going to stay 
 the night. 
 
 " For more than the night, I hope," spoke 
 Kate, heartily. " You know it's a real pleasure 
 to me to have you whenever I can get you. 
 What good wind blew you over? " 
 
 "Oh, I just thought I'd come," answered 
 Molly, awkwardly, with a glance at Mrs. Purvis. 
 "I'll tell you all about it by and bye." 
 
 " Would you be so very kind as to give orders 
 about Molly's room," said Miss Fetherstone, 
 addressing her companon, " and you might 
 send in tea. I'm always ready for a cup, and 
 I'm sure it will do the child good after her cold 
 drive. Now dear," she went on when Mrs. 
 Purvis had left the room, " tell me all about 
 it. What's up?" 
 
 " Oh they do drive me half crazy at home," 
 said Molly, swaying forward in her chair and 
 clasping her knees in her hands. " Bob's such 
 a bear and Mamma well, Mamma's so impos- 
 sible. You'll never guess their latest. Bob has 
 asked Mat O'Hara to lunch or something, and 
 Mamma backs him up." 
 
 " Is that all? " asked Kate laughing. " I'd 
 like to meet this Mr. O'Hara. I've heard a 
 lot of him. I wonder, if I met him and were 
 very nice to him, would he ask me to tea at 
 Ballintubber." 
 
 " Kate, how can you?" cried Molly impul- 
 sively. "Why, he's a perfectly horrid man; 
 he's drunk more than half his time, and he was 
 42
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 in a scandalous breach of promise case a tew 
 months ago, and found guilty, and had to pay 
 damages. It was in all the papers." 
 
 " I know he is not a very desirable person," 
 said Kate, more gravely; "but Molly, dear, 
 you mustn't be unreasonable. The man has 
 means and a certain sort of position ; he's bound 
 to find his way, sooner or later, into the few 
 good houses that remain open in these parts, 
 and Bob has chosen to make a friend of him. 
 You can't fight your mother and brother single 
 handed. Make the best of it." 
 
 " It's easy for you to talk," wailed the girl. 
 " You have everything you want, and are your 
 own mistress. Do you know, to me one of the 
 standing marvels of life is, why you are content 
 to live in this God forsaken country at all." 
 
 " Do you know why," answered Kate 
 earnestly. " Because I feel safe here safe and 
 at peace. Molly, I've had my taste of fashion 
 and the great world, and I didn't like them. 
 I spent a season or two in London with my 
 sister; she brought me out, I went everywhere, 
 saw everything " 
 
 " And didn't like it ? " queried Molly, amazed. 
 
 " I hated it," and in answer to the younger 
 girl's look of surprise, Kate went on. " Yes, I 
 hated it, and you'd hate it too. You wouldn't 
 like to be sought for what you have, not for 
 what you are; to feel that any attention you 
 might receive was offered to your money not 
 to yourself." 
 
 " Kate, dear, what a horrid feeling," said 
 Molly with a little shiver. 
 43
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Quite inevitable, though. Yes, it is," in- 
 sisted Kate as Molly shook her head. " In one 
 London season I had six proposals." 
 
 " I don't wonder at it," rejoined Molly, 
 gazing with unfeigned admiration at her 
 friend, whose handsome face looked at the 
 moment as bright and animated as Molly's own, 
 and almost as young. 
 
 " It was my money, dear, not myself they 
 wanted. Yes, I had six proposals not count- 
 ing nibbles, and they were all as poor as church 
 mice." 
 
 " And you refused them all," quoth Molly 
 breathless. 
 
 " I did, more or less adroitly; one improves 
 with practice," answered Kate bitterly. " There 
 was one of them I almost accepted." 
 
 " You were in love with him? " Molly asked 
 quickly. She adored these confidences, and her 
 own troubles were for the moment forgotten. 
 
 " I can't quite say that, but I despised him 
 less than the others. He was a Viscount, and 
 he really made love rather nicely. I never 
 doubted that he found his inspiration in my 
 person, not my purse. We women are such 
 fools sometimes." 
 
 "And did you ?" 
 
 "I did not; simply because I chanced 
 to hear part of a conversation between 
 his mother and his aunt, which was as- 
 suredly never meant for my ears. Mamma 
 said: "I am so glad that there is a 
 prospect of dear Valentine settling down 
 at last a good match, too, as far as money goes. 
 44
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 He tells me he only has to ask and to have." 
 
 " Oh Kate, she never could have meant you !" 
 
 " Wait till I quote Auntie. ' I suppose it is 
 that wild Irish girl, Lady Charlton's sister? I 
 trust there is no doubt about the money my 
 dear ! To which Mamma replied, ' Oh, Valen- 
 tine has assured himself on that point. It's 
 whisky, you know, Irish whisky. But there will 
 be no odour of the still upon the sovereigns." 
 
 " Kate ! " gasped Molly, horrified. 
 
 " Ah, Molly, you don't know your luck. 
 You haven't a sixpence, and you can only be 
 wooed for your own sweet self. I'd like to go 
 out, a beggar maid, and stand in the market 
 place, so that I could be sure I was chosen for 
 myself." 
 
 "I'm sure if I were a man " began Molly 
 
 eagerly, but the other interrupted her. 
 
 " But, you see, you're not; so I shall have to 
 die an old maid when I'd a great deal rather 
 be wooed, and won, and kissed, and married as 
 you will be one of these fine days, Molly, dear." 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Molly, rising with a 
 crimson face. " There isn't a man I'd have, 
 aind well you know it. Here's tea," she con- 
 tinued, as Bishop, the butler, entered with the 
 tray. " How good you are to me, Kate," you 
 fairly spoil me." 
 
 " Shut up and drink your tea," laughed Kate. 
 " There now, you look comfey, and here comes 
 Mrs. Purvis. She has had hers, and so have I, 
 but we're always game for a second innings 
 aren't we Mrs. Purvis? " 
 
 The conversation became general, and Miss 
 
 45
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Fetherstone's peculiar and somewhat morbid 
 views on money and marriage were not further 
 discussed. It was not the first time that she had 
 touched on these topics in intimate chat with 
 her young friend, but Molly had never before 
 found her so outspoken and so bitter. 
 
 Dress, servants, and the weather had been 
 duly mentioned and criticised, and the three 
 ladies had fallen silent, momentarily expecting 
 the dressing gong, when Kate suddenly said : 
 
 " It can't be very comfortable for you at 
 home, Molly, while this nightmare is hanging 
 over you. I'll drive over to-morrow and have 
 it out with Mrs. Delaney, and if she won't hear 
 reason I'll keep you here permanently. After 
 all, your views, or your prejudices if they like to 
 call them so, are entitled to some consideration 
 in your own home." 
 
 " Thanks, dear, but it wouldn't do an atom of 
 good. I'm only a baby there unless there is 
 something to do or contrive or to manage. 
 Then I might be fifty." 
 
 " But you can't fight your battle single 
 handed," replied Kate. " When is your uncle 
 coming home? " 
 
 " I don't know. He talks of it in every letter. 
 He says he means to come directly this war will 
 let him." 
 
 " But your uncle is his own master," urged 
 Kate. " He's a rich man, isn't he? " 
 
 " I suppose so," replied Molly, " at least 
 
 yes he must be. He owns a gold mine in 
 
 California you know, and he's always sending 
 
 us home things. He sent me fifty pounds to 
 
 46
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 buy my dress when I was presented, and he 
 sent Bob fifty at the same time on general prin- 
 ciples he said, ajnd he gave me a pendant I 
 shall wear it at dinner, its a specimen out of one 
 of his own mines." 
 
 "Indeed," remarked Kate. "I shall have 
 to cultivate your uncle Gerald. But why can't 
 he come home and fight his pretty niece's 
 battles? " 
 
 " Because he's in China, looking on at other 
 people's," laughed Molly. "He's reporting 
 the war for his newspaper. He began life as 
 a journalist, and likes it." 
 
 " Well, I think he's wanted here " began 
 
 Kate, and Molly broke in with a fervent, 
 " You'll never know how much ! " 
 
 " And till he comes I'll try to take his place," 
 resumed Miss Fetherstone, "for I won't see 
 my particular pet put upon ! What a lot of 
 p's," she laughed, " they ought to make my 
 mouth quite a beautiful shape. Now there's the 
 dressing gong, so run along dear, and mind you 
 wear Uncle Gerald's pendant. I particularly 
 want to see if." 
 
 Dismissing Molly with a kiss, she turned to 
 Mrs. Purvis. 
 
 " Things are going headlong to ruin at Lis- 
 carrick, I wish that Uncle of hers were here ! " 
 
 To which Mrs. Purvis replied. 
 
 " My dear Kate, everyone's trouble is your 
 trouble, and you mustn't go worrying yourself 
 into fiddlestrings over this, for there's nothing 
 on earth you can do." 
 
 " Well, at any rate, Molly won't have to sit 
 
 47
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 down to table with Mr. O'Hara to-morrow, since 
 she loathes the very thought of it and that's 
 something anyhow." 
 
 With which parting shot Kate Fethersto-ie 
 went to dress for dinner.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE SQUIREEN CONSULTS His SOLICITOR. 
 
 SEVERAL months had elapsed since Molly's 
 escapade before Gerald found time to visit 
 Ireland, and during the long summer her yearn- 
 ing for his return became almost pathetic. She 
 no longer rebelled, or only at infrequent 
 intervals but accepted O'Hara's growing in- 
 timacy at Liscarrick with sullen resignation. 
 She disliked and dreaded the man more, if pos- 
 sible, than ever, but she set her teeth in the 
 determination to endure, comforting herself by 
 muttering, when tried over much, "Wait till 
 Uncle Gerald comes." 
 
 Bob, too, looked forward to his uncle's 
 arrival with similar earnestness, but for different 
 reasons. Though of late he had seen more of 
 Mat O'Hara than ever, the two were no longer 
 on quite the friendly terms of old. "The little 
 harse," as Mat affectionately styled their joint 
 purchase, so far from proving a bond of union, 
 threatened to turn into the equine equivalent of 
 an apple of discord. Each of the partners held 
 his own views on matters of diet and of exercise, 
 and they held them strongly. 
 
 By mutual consent the animal was kept at 
 Liscarrick, where better exercising ground and 
 more commodious loose boxes were available; 
 
 49
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 at least so Bob urged, and his partner ac- 
 quiesced, reflecting that the more plausible the 
 excuse for his frequent visits, the better for his 
 purpose, and frequent and more frequent these 
 visits grew. Did the hounds meet anywhere in 
 the neighbourhood, O'Hara dropped in to tea. 
 Was it a non-hunting day, he walked or rode 
 over to see "the little harse," and often re- 
 mained to lunch. Molly, all her prickles out 
 like a defensive hedgehog, scarce ever could be 
 induced to give him a civil word, and bided her 
 time. Mrs. Delaney was much more gracious. 
 Her's was one of those natures which crave 
 attention and flattery, and of the latter the 
 Squireen was no niggard. Its quality, to be 
 sure, was coarse, but its supply was inexhaus- 
 tible, and to Mrs. Delaney this meant much. 
 
 During his visits to Liscarrick, too, he was 
 always careful to be on his best behaviour. The 
 whisky bottle, it is true, was always produced, 
 and ebbed fast under his attentions, for Mat was 
 no tea drinker, but he was a seasoned toper in 
 whose manners and appearance a few glasses 
 made no perceptible difference, and Mrs. 
 Delaney was far from regarding him as a hard 
 drinking man. 
 
 People began to gossip, and the talk went 
 round that Mat O'Hara, of Ballintubber, was 
 courting Miss Molly Delaney. Hints and in- 
 nuendoes soon reached the ears of the young 
 lady concerned, and did not tend to diminish 
 her distaste for her rustic wooer. For gossip 
 was right for once, and O'Hara first sought an 
 introduction to Liscarrick with the fixed inten- 
 se
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 tion of wooing, and if possible winning the 
 daughter of the house. Nor would the girl's 
 uncompromising hostility have turned him from 
 his purpose, for Mat was not easily daunted, 
 but he was prudent as well as ambitious. 
 
 O'Hara passed for a rich man, but he knew 
 better. He was spending his capital, and 
 Uncle Con's snug legacy was dwindling daily. 
 He was as firmly resolved as ever to achieve 
 position by marriage, but might it not be pos- 
 sible to achieve fortune at the same time ? He 
 thought the thing feasible, and feflected. For 
 one brief moment a dazzling vision of Miss 
 Fetherstone, and her unnumbered thousands 
 danced before him, only to be dismissed as im- 
 possible. He had met the ladies from the 
 Priory more than once at Liscarrick, and he 
 winced, albeit not thin skinned, at the remem- 
 brance of the cool, cutting phrases wherewith 
 Miss Fetherstone had more than once put him in 
 his place when his familiarity grew too aggres- 
 sive. Poor Molly's wrath was a bludgeon, and 
 easily parried. Kate's contempt was a rapier 
 which cut to the bone. In attempting such a 
 fortress he would suffer too much, and even his 
 vanity could not persuade him that he had the 
 forlornest hope of success. 
 
 " But I can't go on wasting me time," he 
 pondered; "and Uncle Con's money won't last 
 forever." 
 
 As his unassisted musings seemed unlikely to 
 carry him further, he drained his glass, ordered 
 his hack, and cantered into Drine to spend " the 
 shank of the evening " with 'Torney McMaster.
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Dry, wizened, and shrewd, a Scotch Irishman 
 from the North, Alexander McMaster loved no- 
 thing on earth so well as his bank account, and 
 took an interest in O'Hara and his affairs partly 
 because he had done well out of them in the 
 past, but chiefly because he hoped to do better 
 out of them in the future. He was ready of 
 tongue, as quick to pounce on an advantage as a 
 terrier on a rat, and he hated the Delaneys with 
 all his 'heart, not only because they were poor, 
 but because he more than suspected that they 
 looked down contemptuously on the country 
 attorney from the serene heights of their county 
 position. 
 
 O'Hara had always been careful to conceal 
 from the attorney, as from everyone else, his 
 increasingly precarious financial position. 
 
 "That bond of Bob Delaney's," said Mat, 
 crushing a refractory lump of sugar in his 
 tumbler, " it'll be due when ? " 
 
 He had called ostensibly on This business, 
 meaning to lead the conversation toward a more 
 delicate topic as soon as he felt sufficiently 
 primed. 
 
 "In another three weeks," answered the 
 lawyer. " What do you mean to do? " 
 
 " Renew, I suppose. What else is there for 
 it? You can't get blood out of a stone." 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that. There's a limited 
 amount of blood to be got out of most stones if 
 you don't mind crushing them. Liscarrick is 
 not entailed; the estate's dipped to the eyes, 
 but I should think the equity of redemption 
 5?
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 would fetch a thousand or two, even under a 
 forced sale." 
 
 "Sell up Liscarrick! An ould place like 
 that! I couldn't do it, Mac, an' that's the 
 truth!" 
 
 "Well, Mat, you know best. Only I can't 
 see the object of taking the bond if you were not 
 prepared to enforce it." 
 
 " There's another thing," said O'Hara slowly. 
 "I'd still be out eight hundred on the deal even 
 if Bob paid me. I'm getting out of consate wid 
 the little harse. Bob has him at Liscarrick, and 
 he doesn't know how to handle him. He thinks 
 he's doin' the divil an' all, but he knows more 
 about plough harses nor he does about blood 
 stock." 
 
 "Well, what would you propose to do?" 
 asked McMaster. 
 
 " Look here! I don't want to sell Bob up for 
 reasons I'll tell' ye afore I say good night. But 
 there's more ways of killing a dog than choking 
 him with butther. He has a rich uncle in 
 foreign parts, hasn't he? " 
 
 "I'm afraid, Mat," replied the attorney with 
 a dry chuckle, " that it won't do to depend on 
 all foreign and colonial uncles showing the con- 
 sideration that yours did, and dying just in the 
 nick of time to discharge the liabilities of an 
 embarrassed nephew." 
 
 " Ye're damned funny, ain't ye, Mr. Mc- 
 Master," snarled O'Hara, who much disliked 
 these references to the source of his fortune, 
 "but there's been such a thing heard of as a 
 rich millionaire sportin' a thrifle sooner nor see 
 53
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 his ould family seat brought to the hammer." 
 
 "Such things have been," said the lawyer 
 cautiously, " but sentiment's not a very safe 
 thing to reckon on ; it's no security in law. Still 
 in this case, and from what I know of the over- 
 weening pride of these Delaneys, it may answer. 
 So you wish me to renew? " 
 
 "More nor that," shouted Mat eagerly. 
 " Here's my idea. Let him renew for another 
 few months give me a new bond for the whole 
 sixteen hundred, adding the interest due, and 
 I'll sell him the whole harse, lock, stock and 
 barrel, an' let him get up on him and ride him 
 to the divil his own way." 
 
 "H'm," mused the attorney. "Trusting to 
 the Californian uncle to take up the bond at 
 maturity? " 
 
 " He'll do it," cried O'Hara eagerly. " I 
 know the store they all set by the ould place, an* 
 what's sixteen hundred pounds to the likes of 
 him, wid his goold mines an' his newspapers 
 an' the divil knows what else besides. An' he's 
 coming home this year. They do be talking of 
 it all the time up at the big house. They don't 
 know the day he may walk in." 
 
 " Well, I'm only here to follow your instruc- 
 tions, Mr. O'Hara," said the lawyer formally. 
 " It's your speculation, not mine. By the way, 
 will the young man be willing to purchase your 
 interest on those terms, and give his bond for 
 the increased amount? " 
 
 . " Will a duck swim? " answered Mat with a 
 prodigious wink. " He'd be willing to do any- 
 thing for anyone who wouldn't ax him to put 
 54
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 his hand in his empty pocket, and he'd give the 
 eyes out of his head to call the little harse his 
 own, out an' out." 
 
 "Very good! Bring the young man to my 
 office any day during the next three weeks, and 
 if he's agreeable the matter can be settled off- 
 hand." 
 
 '" Now, Mac," said O'Hara, the business of 
 the bond thus dismissed, " if there's another 
 sup in that decanter I'll just fix meself a dock-a- 
 dorrich, an' explain to you the reason why I 
 don't want to be too hard on Bob Delaney just 
 now, or on anyone of the name." 
 
 " It's like this," he went on, when he had 
 mixed the ingredients to his satisfaction. " I 
 think the widow Delaney has a very kindly feel- 
 ing towards yours truly." 
 
 He lay back in his chair and smiled broadly 
 in the attorney's face. The latter stared. He 
 began to think the punch was affecting his 
 client's brain. 
 
 " And is it on that account that you are pre- 
 pared to forego your security for a debt of eight 
 hundred pounds? " 
 
 "Not altogether. Tell me, Mac, for you 
 must know, what's the widow's jointure?" 
 
 "Seven hundred a year; that's one of the 
 charges on the place, and lucky for them she 
 has it, for very little else have they to live on." 
 
 "An' its not forfeit if she married agen ? " 
 asked Mat anxiously. 
 
 " Not that I know of no, I may say I know 
 it is not," replied McMaster. 
 
 "Then," said the Squireen, bringing his 
 55
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 face close to McMaster's, " I think it's high time 
 she was choosing her second husband, and when 
 I tell her so, I think you'll find she'll agree 
 with me! " 
 
 "Oh!" was all the attorney said, but his 
 opinion of his client rose several degrees from 
 that moment. 
 
 "An* now," said O'Hara, "if you'll just ring 
 an' tell Darby to fetch round me pony, I think 
 I'll be toddling. Just one parting glass afore 1 
 go, Mac, an' I'll give you a toast." 
 
 "What is it?" asked the attorney, as he 
 filled the tumblers. 
 
 "Speed the wooing," cried O'Hara, then, 
 'draining his glass he clapped his hat on his 
 head, shook hands with McMaster, and lurched 
 out of the room.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 BOB DELANEY'S THOROUGHBRED. 
 
 "THERE, uncle mine," cried Bob, as he flung 
 open the door of his best loose box and stood in 
 his horsiest attitude, chewing a straw as if to 
 the manner born, "There, uncle, that's the 
 thoroughbred." 
 
 Gerald had heard much of this animal since 
 his arrival. For several days he had not been 
 allowed to inspect him, Bob averring that " he 
 was not looking his best," but to-day, Molly and 
 Jack having started after breakfast for a long 
 ramble, the young master of Liscarrick could 
 no longer restrain his impatience, but carried 
 his uncle off to the stables. 
 
 "Thoroughbred, eh?" commented Gerald, 
 after he had surveyed the equine prodigy for 
 some moments in silence. " They never were 
 much in my line, and my stable lore has grown 
 a trifle rusty of late years, but I certainly think 
 he's a slashing fine youngster." 
 
 " Isn't he? " cried the other enthusiastically. 
 " Look at those quarters. I wish you saw him 
 gallop. Such action. And look at the hoof of 
 him. Hard as a pebble and clean as a whistle. 
 Never fear," he added as he dodged a playful 
 kick, " there's not a particle of vice in 
 57
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 his composition; it's only high spirits." 
 
 Gerald, having paid the colt the expected 
 compliments, strolled with his companion 
 across the dilapidated yard and out into the neg- 
 lected home farm. He saw all around him 
 evidences of unthrift, the slow ravages of 
 eighteen years all unrepaired, and his heart 
 grew heavy for Liscarrick. 
 
 "What do you call him?" he asked pre- 
 sently, reverting to the horse. 
 
 "I've christened him 'Liscarrick,' after the 
 old place," replied Bob. "Good name, I 
 think." 
 
 " I hope he'll keep in better condition than his 
 namesake, then. Everything seems going to 
 rack and ruin here." 
 
 " I can't help it," replied Bob, rather sulkily. 
 " I'm no farmer." 
 
 "So I should judge," responded the other 
 dryly, and they fell silent again. 
 
 Presently, Gerald's train of thought brought 
 him face to face with a problem which demanded 
 solution. 
 
 "Say," he said suddenly, " How" did you 
 come by that bit of horseflesh, anyhow? He 
 must have stood you a longish price." 
 
 "Sixteen hundred," answered Bob, who had 
 been waiting for and rather dreading this ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "Sixteen hundred," echoed Gerald, "and 
 where, may I ask, did you raise sixteen hundred 
 pounds?" 
 
 The two men had halted and were facing each 
 other. Bob waxed deprecatory and explanatory, 
 58
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "You see the deal came about in a rather 
 funny way. I didn't go into it alone. I only 
 took half." 
 
 "Then this is the horse deal you went Into 
 with Mat O'Hara. I don't care for your part- 
 ner, but the liability is less. Still I congratu- 
 late you on having eight hundred pounds to 
 sport in a flutter like this." 
 
 "You don't understand, Uncle Gerald. I 
 didn't have to put up a cent. Mat found the 
 money." 
 
 " And let you in on the ground floor for no- 
 thing!" sneered Gerald. " Upon my word, I 
 hadn't given Mr. O'Hara credit for such gener- 
 osity." 
 
 "Hang it all, don't bait a fellow," growled 
 Bob, uneasily. " Here, I'll tell you all about 
 it. I gave Mr. O'Hara notes for the money, of 
 course, eight hundred first of all, and then six- 
 teen hundred afterwards. Sixteen hundred in 
 all, I mean. We differed about the horse the 
 feeding and training, and so forth. He's an 
 ignorant beggar, though he thinks he knows it 
 all. Well we agreed to split the partnership, 
 buy or sell ; we tossed up for it, and it fell to me 
 to buy, and I'm jolly glad of it, for it's a thun- 
 dering good investment." 
 
 " I hope it may prove so," commented Gerald 
 dryly. 
 
 " It's bound to. You've no idea how the colt 
 has come on since I've had him. He'd fetch 
 two thousand anywhere, to-morrow!" 
 
 " Then, if I were you, I'd sell him to-morrow." 
 
 "Not me," cried Bob. "Do look at the matter 
 
 59
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 sensibly, uncle. He'll come out in the spring 
 as a three year old. He's splendidly engaged. 
 Wait till he's won a race or two, and he'll be 
 worth double the money." 
 
 " Supposing he loses a race or two instead ? " 
 
 " He can't. Look at his pedigree. He's 
 by " 
 
 " Don't bother me with pedigrees," exclaimed 
 Gerald, irritably, " I know nothing about your 
 sires and dams, and care less. W T hat you 
 ought to bend your mighty intellect to is how 
 are you going to take up these notes. When are 
 they due? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 "Very shortly now," said Bob soberly, "in 
 a couple of weeks, I believe, but the under- 
 standing was " 
 
 " I know all about these understandings. All 
 that O'Hara will understand is that his money 
 is due, and he'll see that he gets it." 
 
 " He'll renew," asserted the sanguine nephew. 
 
 "Will he? I'm much mistaken in the man 
 if he does," retorted the more experienced uncle. 
 "He found himself let into a bad speculation 
 with a young fool for a partner, and like a smart 
 man wriggled out of the trap. But I'll bet he's 
 not going to leave any feathers in it if he can 
 help it." 
 
 " Nonsense, uncle, he was readier to buy than 
 to sell. We tossed up for it, and he lost." 
 
 " Pshaw I You make me tired ! " said Gerald 
 contemptuously. Then in a more conciliatory 
 tone he went on. "Well, you're young; that's 
 your only excuse. I suppose that you couldn't 
 raise sixteen hundred anywhere?" 
 60
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Look here, uncle Gerald," said Bob, 'draw- 
 ing a long breath and blurting out his proposi- 
 tion headlong fashion as he would have ridden 
 at a big fence there was no avoiding. " Couldn't 
 you take over this debt and settle with him. 
 I'd pay you back out of Liscarrick's first win- 
 nings." 
 
 Gerald regarded the speaker with amazement. 
 " And where do you suppose I'd get sixteen 
 hundred pounds? " 
 
 " Where?" echoed Bob, equally astonished. 
 "Why, you're a millionaire, aren't you?" 
 
 "I, a millionaire!" cried Gerald. "My 
 dear boy, barring a few pounds at my bankers, 
 I've nothing between me and the poorhouse but 
 my salary. What put such a ridiculous notion 
 into your head? " 
 
 " Everyone thinks so. You said yourself you 
 were doing so well lately." 
 
 " So I have or I couldn't have come home. 
 That was the war. A man that's earning twelve 
 or fifteen pounds a week and has his salary 
 suddenly jumped to thirty-five may be forgiven 
 if he thinks he is doing well." 
 
 Bob's countenance had fallen lower and lower 
 with every word his uncle uttered. 
 
 " And I've been counting so on you," he com- 
 plained. " Do you mean to say you haven't 
 got anything? What about that gold mine of 
 yours ? Is that a flam too ? " 
 
 " There has been no flam about me," answered 
 the other angrily, "except what you have been 
 pleased to imagine for yourself. I make my 
 own living, and don't owe a cent, in the world,
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 I wish to the Lord as much could be said of 
 you." 
 
 "There's no gold mine then," said Bob in a 
 more subdued tone. "I'm sure you said some- 
 thing of the kind in some of your letters, all 
 the same." 
 
 " I did speak of a gold mine when I was send- 
 ing Molly a specimen, but it was more as a 
 joke than anything else. I'll show you the 
 share certificates when we go in. I do own the 
 greater part of a mine, but I'm not so sure about 
 the gold." 
 
 "Isn't it worth anything?" inquired Bob 
 anxiously. 
 
 "At the present it's well undeveloped," 
 replied his uncle smiling slightly. T< I took 
 the shares it was all I could lay hands on in 
 satisfaction for arrears of salary when the ' Daily 
 Broker ' went smash. I don't think the stuff 
 was of much value or I shouldn't have got it." 
 
 "Pity," observed Bob. "'Gold mine' 
 sounds so well." 
 
 " It may here, it doesn't in California. 
 They're too much fed up with this kind of 
 thing." 
 
 Gerald hunted through his pocket book till 
 he found a somewhat soiled newspaper clipping, 
 which he handed to his nephew. Bob took it 
 eagerly and read : 
 
 " Golden Horseshoe Mine. Surface indi- 
 
 " cations are extraordinarily rich, and if the 
 
 " vein proves equal to the outcroppings, there 
 
 " ought to be a million dollars taken out in 
 
 "the next six months." 
 62
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 He looked up. 
 
 " Is that your mine? Well, if it is, all I can 
 say is that it reads bang up." 
 
 "So it ought," replied Gerald, laughing, 
 "considering I wrote it myself, and printers' 
 ink comes cheap to the trade." 
 
 "You can't help me out then," pleaded Bob 
 so wistfully that his uncle felt sorry for the 
 boy. " I believe O'Hara would renew if you'd 
 put your name on the bill. Anyhow, if you'll 
 let me I'll sound McMaster." 
 
 " Do you mean the attorney? " asked Gerald, 
 looking up quickly. " Surely the matter hasn't 
 passed into his hands? " 
 
 "Well, the notes were signed at his place, 
 and O'Hara goes a good deal by his advice. 
 May I see him, and say you'll back the bill?" 
 
 " I don't see what value my name would have 
 on a bill to that amount," objected Gerald, 
 "still, if they've any fancy for my autograph, 
 and consider it will .increase their security, I'll 
 go that far." 
 
 "You're a brick, uncle. You'll see it will 
 come all right." 
 
 "But mind," insisted Gerald, "no sailing 
 under false colours. Don't you go to Mc- 
 Master with any fairy tales about your million- 
 aire uncle. In the first place it wouldn't have 
 the least effect on him, he wouldn't believe you; 
 and in the second place, I won't have it." 
 
 " I won't say a word I oughtn't," promised 
 Bob. " Only I shan't lead off by saying you're 
 only on salary. He thinks you're very rich; 
 everyone does. Let him keep on thinking so.
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 You needn't go out of your way to enlighten 
 him, need you? " 
 
 11 1 certainly shan't go about the place pro- 
 claiming myself a pauper," answered Gerald, 
 "but if I'm asked any questions I shan't tell 
 any lies. I am pretty well persuaded you've 
 been had in this deal, and if I can pull you out ; 
 of the hole I will. After all," he mused, " there 
 can be no great risk. The horse ought to be 
 security for a good bit of the money." 
 
 " For double the money," shouted Bob en- 
 thusiastically, his spirits quite restored. " And 
 don't forget; you promised to le! me see those 
 mining cerificates." 
 
 " Come up to my room, and you can have 
 a look at them now." 
 
 " All right, it isn't very enticing round here," 
 assented the boy. " Now you've seen Liscar- 
 rick there isn't anything else worth looking at. 
 And oh^ uncle mine, remember it's very impor- 
 tant that you shouldn't go upsetting precon- 
 ceived opinions. Nothing people hate like that. 
 They're quite sure you're a Yankee millionaire. 
 Don't go disappointing them." 
 
 " Not unless I'm asked the question, and 
 asked by someone I consider entitled to an 
 answer." 
 
 "By McMaster, for instance," ventured Bob. 
 
 11 If I put my name on that paper of yours, 
 yes," assented his uncle, "decidedly McMaster 
 would be entitled to the truth, and so would 
 O'Hara." 
 
 " I see," sighed the nephew, " I can't imagine 
 where some people get so many silly, incon- 
 64
 
 'WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 venienf scruples. Never mind, uncle," he con- 
 tinued, brightening up, "I regard all that you 
 have told me as strictly confidential, and you 
 may rely on it I shan't give you away. 1 ' 
 
 Gerald, albeit much disquieted at what he had 
 ,heard, could not refrain from laughing as he led 
 the way into the house.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A SHADOW FALLS ON LISCARRICK. 
 
 "SAY, old fellow," remarked Jack Whalen, as 
 he strolled with Gerald along the shrubbery 
 path one Sunday morning a few weeks after 
 their arrival at Liscarrick, " do you know, 
 you've got a mighty charming little girl for a 
 niece here?" 
 
 " I think I have," answered Gerald, regarding 
 the speaker curiously. 
 
 "I've been studying her a good deal," went 
 on Jack, looking about for a suitable grass 
 blade to thrust through the stem of his pipe. 
 
 "So I have observed," remarked Gerald, 
 puffing away contentedly. 
 
 "You can't help observing her," rejoined 
 Jack, purposely ignoring the other's meaning, 
 "confound it, is there anything so irritating as 
 a pipe that won't draw? What was I saying 
 oh, yes. I have been observing your little niece, 
 and I don't think she is happy at home." 
 
 " Indeed," replied Gerald, " I'm sorry to hear 
 that." 
 
 For some days he had watched with interest 
 and secret approval the growing pleasure which 
 Molly and Jack seemed to take in each other's 
 society. It would do very well, he thought. 
 Jack, a young fellow with his foot well on the 
 ladder, and endowed with his full share of 
 
 66
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 brains and energy; Molly, a pretfy, intelligent, 
 sweet-natured girl, and a ve'ry capable little 
 housewife as he had not failed to observe. Jack's 
 opening remarks seemed to hint at possible 
 confidences, though it was certainly early days 
 for a declaration. 
 
 " Yes," the younger man continued, filling the 
 pipe whose initial obstinacy he had at length 
 overcome, " I don't think she's at all happy in 
 Her present surroundings, and I'm afraid they 
 are more likely to change for the worse than for 
 the better." 
 
 Gerald stared. " What on earth" do you 
 mean ? " he asked. 
 
 " Well, it's not an easy thing to put into 
 words if you haven't noticed it yourself. You 
 may or you may not have done so. I have, 
 and I am not the only one. Molly and I have 
 been talking it over " 
 
 " Eh ? " interrupted Gerald with a broad grin. 
 He regarded that Christian name as an admis- 
 sion. But his friend went on, quite unembar- 
 rassed. 
 
 " Molly Miss Delaney; your niece, you 
 know. She and I have been talking if over. 
 You must have seen for yourself how incess- 
 antly that outrageous squireen is here. Have 
 you got on to his manner to your sister-in-law?" 
 
 Gerald was thunderstruck. Preoccupied by 
 his efforts to straighten out Bob's difficulties, 
 he had been less observant than usual. But 
 now a thousand trifles, unnoticed at the time, 
 occurred to him. He tried to reply lightly, but 
 his thoughts were busy. 
 67
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " I never noticed that he had any manners 
 at all." 
 
 "'Probably not," answered Jack, "but he 
 has; a certain style of manners quite peculiarly 
 his own. It's no laughing matter, old fellow. 
 In his breezy, unconventional way O'Hara is 
 making fierce love to Mrs. Delaney, and what 
 is worse, she seems to like it." 
 
 "Good God!" ejaculated Gerald. "That 
 unspeakable bounder! Why he ought to be 
 kicked from this to " 
 
 Then he fell suddenly silent. Those liabili- 
 ties of Bob's! The notes fell due on Wednes- 
 day. He knew that his nephew was even now 
 negotiating for their renewal. It rested with 
 O'Hara either to hold his hand or to turn the 
 breaching artillery of the law on the last frail 
 defences of Liscarrick. Clearly this was a 
 situation to be tactfully and warily dealt with. 
 
 But of this Jack knew nothing. He merely 
 filled in the pause in his own way, and assented 
 warmly. 
 
 " Yes, he ought to be kicked from here to 
 hell, and you're the man to do ft. But you 
 can't apply the same treatment to your sister-in 
 law, and there the danger lies." 
 
 Before Gerald could reply they were joined by 
 Mrs. Delaney and Molly, and he had no oppor- 
 tunity of pursuing the subject further. But 
 finding there was half an hour to spare before 
 lunch, he carried off Molly under pretence of 
 exhibiting some pigs which formed the latest 
 addition to the Liscarrick live stock. 
 
 Young as she was, Gerald had far more con- 
 68
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 fidence in his niece's good sense and discretion 
 than he entertained for his nephew's, and in- 
 stinctively it was to her he turned for light on 
 this new trouble, and possibly for advice. 
 
 " Molly," he began abruptly as soon as they 
 were alone, "what brings Mat O'Hara round the 
 place so much? " 
 
 " Don't think it's me, uncle," replied the girl 
 eagerly. "There were all kinds of horrid 
 remarks and ill-natured talk about his making 
 up to me, but I always loathed the beast." 
 
 " I acquit you, my dear; anyone can see how 
 you regard him ; but the question remains 
 what brings him here? " 
 
 " Bob brought him first. I ran off and stayed 
 three days with Kate Fetherstone when I heard 
 he was expected, but that couldn't last for ever. 
 He kept coming and coming, and I had to put 
 up with it." 
 
 "Yes, and he keeps on coming, but what's 
 the attraction?" asked Gerald, pointedly. 
 
 Then Molly broke down, and her uncle saw 
 the first tears he had detected in her eyes since 
 she had wept as a baby over a broken doll. 
 
 "Oh, uncle Gerald; it sounds dreadful, and 
 I'm almost ashamed to say it, but I'm afraid 
 its Mamma." 
 
 "Don't cry, dear. If it's so, and I fear it is, 
 it's got to be faced ; and you and I are the only 
 ones to face it so far as I can see," replied 
 Gerald, beginning bravely but ending gloomily, 
 as difficulties, of which Molly knew nothing, 
 recurred to his mind. " Have you any idea 
 how your mother regards him ? " 
 69
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Oh, mamma's such a fool!" exclaimed 
 Molly, passionately. " She'll listen to anyone 
 who will pay her attention enough, and talk 
 drivel about her eyes and figure." 
 
 " I may take it then that I shan't have an ally 
 in Emmie," said Gerald half to himself, " rather 
 the reverse indeed. Well, we must do without 
 her." 
 
 "There's Bob," suggested Molly, but not 
 very hopefully. 
 
 " I'm afraid we can't reckon on Bob," Gerald 
 replied, with a vivid remembrance of the notes 
 due on Wednesday. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," urged Molly. " He 
 would feel it in other ways. I've nothing at 
 all you know, and Bob well, there's no income 
 from Liscarrick after the mortgage interest is 
 paid next to none that is. We are all living 
 on Mamma's jointure." 
 
 Gerald gave vent to a prolonged whistle. 
 Things certainly looked as black as they well 
 could do. 
 
 "Well, we must only pull together, dear, all 
 three of us, and do the best we can. I'll think 
 it out, and we'll have another palaver soon. 
 Come, there's the luncheon gong, let's go 
 in." 
 
 "I'm so glad we've had this talk," said 
 Molly, slipping her little hand through her 
 uncle's arm, and giving it an affectionate 
 squeeze. " I don't feel half so lonesome and 
 helpless now." 
 
 " Do you know who first put me on the 
 track? " asked Gerald. " It was Jack Whalen. 
 70
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 You and he have been laying your heads to- 
 gether over this." 
 
 "Yes," answered Molly, whose cheeks 
 blazed suddenly as she tried to withdraw her 
 arm. " He noticed how things were going; he 
 said he'd speak to you. Do let me go, uncle. 
 I must wash my face before I appear at lunch, 
 or everyone will see I have been crying." 
 
 And Molly wrenched herself free, and ran into 
 the house without glancing back. 
 
 " Molly's a case," mused Gerald, looking after 
 her, "and so is Jack, or I'm much mistaken. 
 Well, that's one bright spot, anyhow, in a 
 pretty gloomy vista." 
 
 And he followed her indoors.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. 
 
 MEANWHILE the pathway of the youthful Lord 
 of Liscarrick had been strewn with anything 
 but roses. His uncle, while avowing his readi- 
 ness to extend all the help in his power, was 
 beset by scruples which seemed to Bob artificial 
 and absurd. Mr. Gerald Delaney was a re- 
 puted millionaire. Then why not devote that 
 reputation to the extinction of his nephew's 
 debts, than which said nephew could conceive 
 of no worthier object? Instead of this, it was 
 with difficulty that he could be induced to re- 
 frain from publishing his impecuniosity to the 
 world, and even that Concession was hedged in 
 with all sorts of conditions and exceptions. 
 
 Bob was angry with everyone with Mat 
 O'Hara for being his creditor, with his uncle 
 for having omitted to come home as rich as 
 people reasonably expected him to be; with 
 himself though this was barely acknowledged 
 for having become entangled in such a coil. 
 'And all the time the sands were running out, 
 the weeks were slipping away With magical 
 rapidity, and the day of reckoning was at hand. 
 Constitutionally indolent as he was, and disposed 
 to trust implicitly to the chapter of accidents, 
 Bob felt that something must be done. He 
 
 73
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK uROWS 
 
 slipped the certificates of the Golden Horse 
 Shoe mine into his pocket and cantered into 
 Drine to interview McMaster. 
 
 Gerald had submitted these certificates, ac- 
 cording to promise, to his nephew's inspection, 
 and the latter had been much struck by their 
 handsome lithography and generally imposing 
 appearance. There were four certificates for 
 five thousand shares each, with a striking 
 picture of the Goddess of Liberty in one corner 
 and of a miner leaning on his pick in another. 
 There was also a reproduction of the arms of 
 California, and certain words setting forth that 
 the company was incorporated under the laws 
 of that State with a capital of ten million 
 dollars, and that the holder was the owner of so 
 many fifty dollar shares. 
 
 The figures appeared to represent wealth 
 almost unimaginable in Western Ireland, and 
 though he knew that his uncle regarded the 
 scrip as practically valueless, Bob could not 
 bring himself to believe that such gorgeous 
 blazonry had been lavished on waste paper. 
 At any rate, a gold mine was a gold mine, he 
 told himself, and if he had been impressed by 
 the magic of the words, why not O'Hara and 
 McMaster ? 
 
 On this day, as it happened, though at a 
 somewhat earlier hour, Mat had ridden in to 
 consult the attorney on the same subject. 
 
 "I've no information to give you," the latter 
 told him. " The notes are due on Wednesday, 
 as you know, but so far Master Bob has neither 
 called nor written." 
 
 73
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Is the uncle going to take them up?" 
 enquired O'Hara anxiously. 
 
 "How can I tell? It looks like it, else the 
 other wouldn't be taking things so quietly." 
 
 " Begob, I hope he will. Then everything 
 would be as aisy as shelling peas," remarked 
 Mat. 
 
 "Ah, but if he doesn't," suggested the 
 lawyer. " We must be prepared for either 
 event. In that case, am I to let the paper go to 
 protest? " 
 
 " What else? " assented the other. 
 
 "And then proceed to sue and levy," con- 
 tinued the attorney, his eyes glistening at the 
 prospect of a long bill of costs. 
 
 " No, begob," shouted O'Hara, "I'm not 
 going to risk seven hundred a year on the chanst 
 of collecting a few hundreds more betoken a 
 pretty share of them would come your way. 
 I've had a bill from you afore now 'Torney Mc- 
 Master." 
 
 "So you think that any proceedings you 
 might take against the son would prejudice your 
 prospects with the mother?" commented Mc- 
 Master, ignoring the taunt in the other's words. 
 
 " To be sure I do. But I think I've a good 
 chanst to get the money, and the widow none 
 the wiser. Put the screw on Bob and turn 
 it till he squeals. Tell him if the money isn't 
 ped to the day, you'll sell the roof from over 
 his head and the flure from in under his feet. 
 Sweat it out of him, Mac. The uncle isn't 
 going to let that happen. We'll get the 
 money." 
 
 74
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " I hope so," replied the attorney. " At any 
 rate, I have your clear instructions now, and I 
 know how to act. And even if he doesn't pay, 
 and you are averse from proceeding to the last 
 extremity, you can easily obtain judgment and 
 distrain on the horse." 
 
 " Take the beast for the damage, eh ? " mused 
 the Squireen. " Well, I'm not sweet on it. 
 For one thing, it couldn't be kept from the ould 
 girl above at Liscarrick, and though I think I 
 have her pretty fond of me by this, it might just 
 set her agen me. Women are unrasonable any- 
 how. And the little harse isn't what he was. 
 I misthrust I give too much money for him in 
 the first place, an' Bob's played the divil wid 
 him since. No, just put the screw on ; talk all 
 ye like, but no law till I've been to church wid 
 the widow." 
 
 11 And are you quite satisfied with your pro- 
 gress in that direction?" said the attorney, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Ye may ordher the weddin' present any day 
 ye plaze," answered O'Hara with a leer. She's 
 all ripe and ready, an' I'll pop the question on 
 the first convaynient opportunity, and afther she 
 once says ' Yes ' there'll be little time cut to 
 waste, I promise ye. Ye've seen me take many 
 a salmon out of the Corragh afore now. An' it 
 isn't often one gets away," he added signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 At this moment the clerk knocked at the door 
 and announced Mr. Robert Delaney. 
 
 It was an unusually sheepish and disconcerted 
 Mr. Robert Delaney who entered the attorney's 
 
 75
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 sanctum, and on finding that the Squireen was 
 there before him he was visibly taken aback. 
 
 Two at a time was longer odds than he had 
 bargained for. He hung a moment, hesitating, 
 in the doorway. 
 
 " Come in, Mr. Delaney, come In," cried the 
 attorney briskly. "I have been expecting to 
 hear from you any day." 
 
 "Good morning, Mr. McMaster," said Bob 
 advancing. " Good morning, Mat, how goes 
 it?" 
 
 " Mornin', " said O'Hara gruffly, without 
 offering to shake hands. And he turned his back 
 and appeared to be admiring the dusty engrav- 
 ings on the walls. 
 
 " I suppose you've called in reference to those 
 notes of yours," went on the lawyer. " Perhaps 
 you'd like to take them up at once. They fall 
 due the day after to-morrow." 
 
 "No, I called to speak to you about renew- 
 ing. You remember, Mat, you said " 
 
 " I remember nothing at all. I've a bad 
 memory," interrupted O'Hara. "That's why 
 I like to have things in black and white, and 
 what's written I stand by." 
 
 " Oh, come, hang it all," cried Bob, stung by 
 the other's bare-faced denial. " You said you 
 hated lawyers and writings between gentlemen, 
 and that the whole thing was only a matter 
 of form." 
 
 " When did I ever say the like? " 
 
 " In your own parlour in Ballintubber the very 
 night we first talked over the deal." 
 
 "Then I was drunk if I did, an' I mind 
 76
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 nothing about it." Mat turned again to his con- 
 templation of the pictures, flinging an ultima- 
 tum viciously over his shoulder. 
 
 " Anyhow, it's in McMaster's hands now. 
 Settle it between ye." 
 
 Bob turned helplessly to the lawyer. 
 
 "Well, I haven't got the money to pay; so 
 now what will you do?" 
 
 "Sue on the notes, and when we have ob- 
 tained judgment seize goods enough to satisfy 
 it," answered the attorney. 
 
 I haven't any goods that would fetch any- 
 thing," returned Bob. "Better renew." 
 
 "You have the horse," began McMaster, 
 but O'Hara again interrupted. 
 
 " An' ye have Liscarrick what's left of it, 
 there ought to be enough between them to 
 make up a thrifle like this." 
 
 Young Delaney drew a sharp breath that was 
 almost a grasp. Here was a catastrophe he had 
 never foreseen. While he stood, stricken 
 silent, the lawyer threw in a reassuring word: 
 
 " Don't mind Mr. O'Hara's manner. He's a 
 bit ruffled to-day. At any rate the money's not 
 due yet. You have till Wednesday to find it." 
 
 Bob laughed derisively. "And where do 
 you suppose I am to find sixteen hundred pounds 
 in two days ? " he asked. 
 
 " This is no subject for levity," reproved Mc- 
 Master. "You should have thought of this 
 when you went into the speculation. As for 
 where you're to find this sum, it is not my place 
 to advise you, but I should have thought a 
 young gentleman of your position would have 
 
 77
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 had friends to whom he could appeal." 
 "There is my uncle Gerald," ventured Bob, 
 who, considering that this name had been very 
 near his lips ever since he entered the room, had 
 borne himself not maladroitly. 
 
 " A gentleman of very considerable wealth I 
 have been given to understand," observed Mc- 
 Master. "If he will send a cheque for the 
 amount let me see I haven't calculated the 
 interest yet, but I can let him have a note of it 
 in the course of the day if he will give his 
 cheque it will be quite satisfactory." 
 
 " I have spoken to him," Bob answered 
 gloomily, "and he utterly refuses to pay it for 
 me." 
 
 O'Hara, who had been an eager listener, 
 turned suddenly. 
 
 " Then you may tell him from me I'll sell 
 up Liscarrick, lock, stock, and barrel, but I'll 
 have me rights." 
 
 " Gently, Mr. O'Hara," pleaded the attorney. 
 " I can see that Mr. Delaney has an alternative 
 proposition to advance. Let us hear him out." 
 
 " It's this," continued Bob. " He won't pay 
 the money, but he'll put his name on the note if 
 you'll renew." 
 
 " But why? " urged the attorney. " Is it not 
 the same thing? " 
 
 " Heaven knows why," sighed Bob, wearily. 
 " I argued with him on that very point for an 
 hour, but he wouldn't give in. Call it a rich 
 man's whim. There it is." 
 
 Mr. McMaster, who had a profound reverence 
 for ricK men and all their whims, pondered. If 
 78
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Gerald were really solvent the security was 
 good quite as good as the cash. Nor did he 
 forget that all this talk of legal pressure and 
 selling Liscarrick was no more than a threat 
 a threat his client was not at the moment pre- 
 pared to carry out. 
 
 "It is very strange," he said at last, " very 
 strange that a gentleman of Mr. Gerald 
 Delaney's means should prefer to incur a liabi- 
 lity rather than pay this trifling amount. I 
 suppose there is no doubt that your uncle is 
 solvent? Remember, we know little of him 
 here, and his property is far away." 
 
 11 Solvent ! " laughed Bob. " I only wish you 
 and I had half his money. Look here," and he 
 produced the elaborately lithographed certifi- 
 cates of shares from his pocket. " Here's a 
 little trifle that he asked me to insure and regis- 
 ter before posting them to his brokers in 
 London." 
 
 Bob was neither very truthful nor very scrupu- 
 lous, but in saying this he was going far beyond 
 anything he had intended on leaving home. 
 He had brought the certificates, without their 
 owner's knowledge, intending no more than to 
 exhibit them with a brag and a flourish when the 
 negotiations were concluded. For it had never 
 occurred to him that anyone would doubt his 
 uncle's wealth or call his solvency in question. 
 But finding himself in a difficulty, he, as his 
 habit had been from boyhood, lied his way 
 through it. 
 
 The certificates had the effect he anticipated. 
 
 H'm! Golden Horse Mine! I seem to have 
 79
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 heard the name," commented McMasfer, rust- 
 ling the crisp paper as he read, while O'Hara 
 hung over his shoulder. " Incorporated accord- 
 ing to the laws of the State of California. 
 Capital, ten million dollars. H'ml That's 
 about two million sterling, and this scrip repre- 
 sents a face value of two hundred thousand 
 pounds. Do you happen to know if the stock 
 stands anywhere near par?" he continued, 
 glancing up. 
 
 " It's at a slight premium, I think," answered 
 Bob airily, " but my uncle believes in the pro- 
 perty and is not anxious to sell." 
 
 " I can well understand how, with friis 
 amount of capital locked up, Mr. Gerald 
 Delaney may prefer not to find even sixteen 
 hundred pounds at a moment's notice," the 
 lawyer remarked, as he returned the certificates. 
 "Well, I think if you can persuade your uncle 
 to accept your bill at thirty days we may con- 
 sider the matter settled, Mr. Delaney." 
 
 "Only thirty days," said Bob, somewhat 
 crestfallen. "That's a very short da!e. We 
 had thought of three months." 
 
 " I think we are treating you very liberally 
 even indulgently," the attorney replied stiffly. 
 "'At any rate, if is as far as my client is pre- 
 pared to go." 
 
 "Aye, take if or lave it," O'Hara broke 
 in. "THe day after to-morrow or that day 
 month." 
 
 "That day month, of course," Bob said hur- 
 riedly. " My uncle promised his name, but* said 
 nothing about the date. If you will make out 
 80
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 the note and send it up to Liscarrick, you can 
 have his signature." 
 
 " It shall be attended to to-morrow, and I will 
 return your old notes cancelled when I have your 
 uncle's acceptance. Is there anything else I 
 can do for you, sir? " 
 
 "Nothing, thanks," replied Bob, preparing 
 to go. 
 
 And Mr. Delaney was quite astute enough 
 to go straight to the Post Office, which was sit- 
 uated immediately opposite Mr. McMaster's 
 premises, and to remain there for some twenty 
 minutes, before he mounted his pony, and, toss- 
 ing a copper to the ragged urchin who held it, 
 trotted home.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "WHISKEY WHALEN'S DAUGHTER." 
 
 GERALD was much relieved on receiving Bob's 
 account of his interview with McMaster, though 
 it may be doubted if he would have felt so well 
 content if the version which his nephew supplied 
 had been full and accurate. As it was, he was 
 simply told that his mere name had smoothed 
 away all difficulties, and, while marvelling that 
 the attorney should be so easy to deal with, did 
 not feel called upon to enter into any elaborate 
 explanation. He calmly determined that the 
 colt should be sold at once, and the money 
 applied to the payment of the debt. Of the 
 mining shares, which once more reposed snugly 
 in their owner's portmanteau, or of the use made 
 of them, Bob told his uncle no single word. 
 
 When, on the following morning, McMaster's 
 clerk appeared with a bill at thirty days for some 
 ^1,648, Bob signed it, and Gerald accepted it 
 without question. The former hovered uneasily 
 round, so long as the attorney's man remained in 
 the house, prepared to steer the conversation 
 away from the dangerous topic should the clerk 
 let fall any unguarded allusion to Golden Horse- 
 shoe stock and the imaginary wealth of the re- 
 turned Californian. 
 
 But the interview was brief and strictly con- 
 fined to the business on hand. As soon as they 
 were alone, Gerald gave his graceless nephew a 
 83
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 sound lecture on his reckless conduct, and then, 
 feeling inclined for more intellectual society 
 than Bob could offer, ordered round the pony 
 trap and drove over to the Priory. 
 
 In the course of these weeks a warm friend- 
 shop had sprung up between Kate and Gerald. 
 In her he found a companion whose interests 
 were not all contained within the little strip of 
 Ireland bounded by the Atlantic and McGilli- 
 cuddy's Reeks. She could talk of the great 
 world, of which she had had glimpses, and of 
 the greater world which is contained in books. 
 And to Gerald, harassed by the complications 
 which had met him on the very threshold of his 
 old home, and sick to death of the sordid cares 
 which made up the life within it, companionship 
 of a congenial kind was a necessity. 
 
 With his sister-in-law he had little in common. 
 His brother's choice of a bride had pleased none 
 of the family, Gerald regarding it, with some 
 reason, as a mesalliance. Intellectually, he held 
 her in contempt, and he felt so irritated at her 
 encouragement of O'Hara that it was at times 
 all he could dp to preserve a decently civil 
 demeanour. 
 
 With Bob, too, though he was still ignorant 
 of the false position into which that young 
 gentleman had betrayed him, he was seriously 
 angry, and of his niece and of his old friend 
 Jack Whalen he saw less and less each day. 
 These young people seemed to grow increasingly 
 sufficient for each other as time went on, and 
 though Gerald watched their ripening attach- 
 ment with a favourable eye, he was often lonely. 
 te
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Under these circumstances the refined and 
 luxurious atmosphere at the Priory, and the 
 sympathetic welcome he always met with there, 
 were inexpressibly comforting to him. 
 
 As for Kate, she had been prepared to like 
 Gerald before she saw him, and she liked him 
 better each day she knew him. It was the 
 penalty of the morbid view she took of her posi- 
 tion that she had few male friends. At the 
 smallest hint of masculine attention her sensitive 
 pride took the alarm. 
 
 But Gerald was different somehow. He was 
 Molly's uncle, and as such placed by Kate on a 
 pinnacle of seniority which his years scarcely 
 warranted. And then he was rich so rich, she 
 told herself, that she need not fear he sought 
 her society from any ulterior motive. No, if he 
 liked her at all and she was beginning to hope 
 he did it was a purely personal sentiment in 
 which distilleries and money bags bore no part. 
 
 Gerald found Miss Fetherstone on this occa- 
 sion in a mood which, in a lady of fewer attrac- 
 tions, he would have described as a " tantrum." 
 She had a quick temper quick, that is, to flare 
 uip as well as to die down, and she was apt to do 
 or say things in moments of irritation which she 
 bittelrly regretted later. 
 
 It was only an hour before Gerald's arrival 
 that she had summarily dismissed her favourite 
 groom, Nolan, for some disobedience of orders, 
 in the attempted justification of which he had 
 been guilty of what she chose at the moment to 
 regard as impertinence. But he was a good 
 servant she did not know where she was likely 
 34
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 to find a better, and, more than all, she liked the 
 man, and he had been obviously distressed and 
 shaken by his dismissal. This last counted for 
 much with Kate, who was a thoroughly kind- 
 hearted woman, and she had chafed herself into 
 a mood in which experience had taught Mrs. 
 Purvis that it was safest not to approach her. 
 
 She was seated, alone upon the terrace when 
 Gerald drove up. 
 
 Nolan, as usual, came from- the yard at the 
 sound of wheels and relieved the visitor of his 
 pony. And Gerald, also as usual, had a kindly 
 word or two for the groom, but he noticed that 
 the reply was not so prompt and cheerful as 
 aforetime. 
 
 "What's the matter with Nolan?" he asked 
 after he had joined Kate, and the brief greetings 
 had been exchanged which pass between friends 
 who meet almost daily. 
 
 " I am seriously displeased with him," replied 
 Kate. " I have been compelled to dismiss him." 
 
 "Oh, I'm sorry," said Gerald awkwardly. 
 There were danger signals on the lady's cheeks 
 which warned him not to pursue the subject. 
 
 " So am I," she said, "but he was insolent 
 and disobedient I had no choice." 
 
 "Too bad," remarked Gerald sympatheti- 
 cally. "Some people don't know when they're 
 well off." 
 
 "But you are worried yourself," she said, 
 looking at him. "What is it. Tell me?" 
 
 "May I smoke?" and as she nodded per- 
 mission, he lit a cigarette. 
 
 He was worried, he could not deny it, and he 
 85
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 longed to share his burden. Well, why should 
 he not ? The scandal was no secret, he feared, 
 and surely Kate was sympathetic. 
 
 " Is it about Bob? " she asked, watching him 
 as he threw down the match and stamped upon 
 it. 
 
 "Oh, Bob!" he exclaimed rather contempt- 
 uously. "Yes, he has been making an ass of 
 himself and running into debt. However, I've 
 luckily been able to arrange that for him, or the 
 consequences might have been serious." 
 
 "What is it then?" The flush on her 
 cheeks had faded out and there was a softened 
 look in her eyes. Certainly she was interested 
 interested and sympathetic. 
 
 "What do you think of O'Hara?" he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Oh, it's O'Hara is it?" she said. " I don't 
 think of him at all if I can help it, and if you'll 
 take my advice, no more will you." 
 
 "I'm afraid we shall have to, whether we like 
 it or no," and then he added with sudden vehem- 
 ence. " What an unspeakable cad the fellow 
 is." 
 
 " He is certainly a very unpleasant person," 
 assented Kate. 
 
 "And he drinks," added Gerald gloomily. 
 
 "I'm afraid there's no doubt of that," she 
 assented. 
 
 "And knowing all this," he continued hotly, 
 " isn't it damnable I beg your pardon isn't it 
 disgusting, that Emmie encourages him." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Delaney, surely no, I have noticed 
 I mean Molly has Oh no! Mrs. Delaney 
 86
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 isn't very wise, I am afraid, and she's rather too 
 fond of admiration but encourage Mat O'Hara 
 in the sense you mean I'll never believe it of 
 her." 
 
 " Heaven grant you're right," sighed Gerald, 
 "but if you'd seen what I've seen days and 
 weeks of it. O'Hara's game is plain enough, 
 Emmie has a jointure it's about all they have 
 among them God help them and if this crea- 
 ture wins the stake he is playing for, Liscarrick 
 will have to go." 
 
 " Surely Mr. O'Hara would not exact that. 
 He has means." 
 
 " But he surely will. What do you suppose 
 he is courting my sister-in-law for ? Every one 
 knows she has a few hundreds a year." 
 
 " For shame, Mr. Delaney ! Are you one of 
 those who believe a man cannot love a woman 
 for herself, without a thought of what she can 
 command in cash?" 
 
 " I am a firm believer in love for love's sake," 
 answered Gerald. " But when a man like 
 O'Hara goes courting a woman fifteen years his 
 senior, one is forced to look for motives." 
 
 "Have you spoken to Mrs. Delaney," asked 
 Kate. " If she only reflected" 
 
 41 She -never reflected in her life," said Gerald, 
 bitterly. " Her brain is the size of a pea, and 
 it rattles." 
 
 " Her heart is large enough," retorted Kate. 
 When I came to the Priory a stranger, it was she 
 stood my sponsor in the county." 
 
 "Surely, Miss Fetherstone needed no 
 sponsor, least of all Mrs. Delaney, nee Miss 
 87
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Emily Hogan," exclaimed Gerald. "All Ire- 
 land knows the Fetherstones of Lisnahoe ' 
 
 " And all the world knows the Whalens of the 
 Shamrock Blend." She spoke with bitter em- 
 phasis, all the morbid hatred she felt for her 
 position reflecting itself in her tone. "The 
 Whalens' are far better known than the 
 Fetherstones. The name is on every hoarding 
 in every newspaper. If you go into a railway 
 refreshment room you cannot help seeing it. I 
 can't. It hits my eye on every public-house 
 window as I drive through Dublin or London, 
 for that matter. I have seen ; t at midnight, on 
 my way home from the opera, flaring in gas-jets 
 from the house-tops changing from green to 
 crimson on some great transparency. ' Drink 
 Whalen's Whiskey! The finest in the world!' " 
 
 " But this is sensitiveness run mad," said the 
 bewildered Gerald, as she paused for breath. 
 "Your name is not Whalen; you have nothing 
 fo do with the business or its advertisments, ex- 
 cept to draw your dividends." 
 
 " I practically own it I and my sister." 
 
 " I would not think of it, if I were you, if it 
 works you up like this. Forget it!" 
 
 "Forget it," she cried impatiently, "I wish 
 I could. I shall never forget it never escape 
 from it. A few months ago I was cursed in the 
 streets of Dublin by a woman whose life had 
 been ruined by a drunken husband." 
 
 " Not your fault," Gerald said. 
 
 "No, not my fault, but it shows hoxv clearly the 
 world remembers that Katherine Fetherstone's 
 mother was 'Whiskey Whalen's ' daughter."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 She rose and paced up and down the terrace 
 for a few minutes, obviously struggling to regain 
 her self-control. Gerald watched her curiously. 
 To him her outbreak had seemed almost hysteri- 
 cal, and yet, in other matters, a saner, better 
 balanced young woman than Kate Featherstone 
 he had nevei met. But certainly, on this par- 
 ticular day he had found her in a peculiar mood. 
 
 She stopped and stood in front of him, her 
 hands clasped behind her, looking down on him. 
 Gerald waited for her to break the silence, but 
 she did not sneak. And, for the life of him, he 
 could think of nothing appropriate to say. 
 
 Just as the situation was beginning to grow 
 awkward it was relieved by the groom who came 
 round from the back of the house and, mounting 
 the terrace, touched his hat. 
 
 "Well, Nolan, what is it?" asked his 
 mistress. 
 
 "I beg yer pardon, miss; but the coachman 
 is out, and who am I to lave the key of Red 
 Rover's box wid av ye plaze?" 
 
 Kate's anger had quite evaporated. Far 
 different emotions had usurped its place. She 
 was forced to pause a moment before she could 
 recall all the circumstances. 
 
 " Oh, yes; I was going to speak to you," she 
 said, presently. " Don't you know that I cannot 
 endure to see a bearing rein on a horse?" 
 
 " Yes Miss, but as I was strivin' to tell ye, 
 Bay Champion bores wid his head that much 
 that " 
 
 "I daresay you had a veason," interrupted 
 Kate, <(1 but reason or no reason, I want you to 
 So
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 remember that when I say a thing I mean it. 
 Now, all I want to be sure is that this shan't cccur 
 again. You may keep Red Rover's key." 
 
 "D'ye mane, Miss, that I " Nolan broke 
 
 off and hope glistened in his eyes. 
 
 " You need not go if you prefer to stay. I 
 have no fault to find with you but the one, and 
 perhaps this will be a lesson to you. Now you 
 can go back to the yard." 
 
 "Long life to ye, Miss! I'll niver put a 
 check rein on horse of yours again, not av he 
 stood up on his hind legs and axed for it. Long 
 life to ye, miss, an' thank ye kindly wanst 
 more." 
 
 And Nolan turned and ran down the terrace 
 steps, muttering as he went. " Begorra, she's 
 the raal sort, an' her bark was always worse nor 
 her bite." 
 
 "You have made one heart happy to-day," 
 said Gerald smiling as he watched the groom's 
 retreating figure. 
 
 " Yes; after having made the poor fellow mis- 
 erable for an hour or two to say nothing of 
 myself. I should never have made so much of 
 so small a fault. I wish I had my temper under 
 better control," she went on with a sigh. " I 
 always go too far." 
 
 " And then take it back. It is a woman's 
 privilege," smiled Gerald. 
 
 " But some day I may say or do something I 
 can't take back," replied Kate. "Come in and 
 bave a cup of tea. I see Mrs. Purvis waving 
 her hand at the window." 
 
 And they passed into the house together. 
 90
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 MAT O'HARA'S WOOING. 
 
 GERALD and Molly were strolling up and down 
 the back avenue at Liscarrick, enjoying the last 
 of the afternoon sun, for the weather was bright 
 and promised frost. Jack Whalen had taken a 
 gun down to the bog, and hoped to return with 
 a few snipe or wild duck. Molly was, in conse- 
 quence, quite at her uncle's disposal and the two 
 were planning a servants' and tenants' ball, 
 wherewith Gerald proposed to celebrate the fast 
 approaching Christmas. 
 
 Such festivities had been frequent at Liscar- 
 rick in the old days, and he had taken part in 
 many a one, but for years the practice had been 
 discontinued, and it was Gerald's whim to revive 
 it on this occasion. 
 
 " Mat O'Hara's sure to come and get drunk 
 and spoil everything," said Molly, falling sud- 
 denly from pleasant anticipation into profound 
 despondency as the name she hated occurred to 
 her. 
 
 " Not he," replied her uncle, "I'll be host for 
 the time being, and I'll take jolly good care he's 
 not asked." 
 
 "As if he'd wait for an invitation I Ballin- 
 tubber is one of Bob's farms and if the tenants 
 are invited he'd consider himself entitled to 
 come."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Well, we'll see," said the other. " Don't let 
 him get on your nerves anyhow. I'm deter- 
 mined we shall have one good old spree with or 
 without Master Mat." 
 
 At this moment Molly caught a distant glimpse 
 of a big grey horse which Larry was leading 
 round to the stable yard. 
 
 " I believe that's his horse." she exclaimed. 
 He's here this minute. I'd better run in, Uncle. 
 Mamma's all alone." 
 
 " Come along, I'll go with you," cried Gerald, 
 turning to follow her, for she had already 
 started. 
 
 But Molly outran him. 
 
 O'Hara was a brisk wooer and he failed to see 
 that anything was to be gained by delay, so, as 
 the ground was too hard for hunting, he deter- 
 mined to ride over and, as he phrased it, " dis- 
 coorse the widow." 
 
 His mind was disturbed by none of the doubts 
 which are popularly supposed to torment the 
 swain about to put his fate to the touch. Indeed, 
 he had few misgivings as to the result of an 
 embassy whose success, in any event, he deter- 
 mined to secure by the simple process of refusing 
 to take "no" for an answer. He sacrificed so 
 far to the occasion as to pay a little extra 
 attention to his dress, and to wash his hands 
 this last a highly desirable innovation. Then, 
 having fortified himself with a glass or two of 
 the Shamrock Blend, he mounted his horse and 
 cantered up to Liscarrick. 
 
 Fortune so far favoured him that he found his 
 lady-love immediately. She was near the door, 
 02
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 engaged in snipping dead leaves from the ivy 
 which covered the front of the house, when he 
 rode up. 
 
 " The top of the mornin' to ye, ma'am. It's 
 a fine evening ye have for yer gardenin'," he re- 
 marked as he swung himself out of the saddle 
 and surrendered his horse to Larry, who 
 appeared opportunely. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. O'Hara, how you startled me," 
 fluttered the widow, dropping her basket and 
 scissors. 
 
 " Begob, then, if ye knew how it becomes ye, 
 ye'd go through life in a fright," replied Mat, 
 gallantly stooping to retrieve the fallen articles. 
 
 Mrs. Delaney stooped for the same purpose, 
 and their fingers met. This was the Squireen's 
 opportunity, and he seized it and the fair hand 
 simultaneously. 
 
 " Arrah, don't be sthrivin' to take it from me," 
 pleaded he, resisting her feeble efforts to with- 
 draw. " Can't ye lave this purty little hand 
 wid me for a minute anyhow, till ye tell me 
 whether I may have it for ever an' a day." 
 
 "Mr. O'Hara! Please do let me go. 
 Don't you see we're right in front of the 
 windows. What will people think?" 
 
 " Divil a hair I care what they think," he 
 rejoined with well simulated passion. " Mat 
 O'Hara's not ashamed of his honest love. Ye 
 must have seen what I was afther this many a 
 day. It's not the scrag of mutton or the odd 
 glass of whiskey that brings ,me to Liscarrick. 
 Sure I've got betther at home. It's yer own 
 deeny, dainty, dawnshee self." 
 Q3
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Mr. O'Hara" began 'the lady, but he in- 
 terrupted her. 
 
 "Call me Mat, yer own Mat. Sure it's 
 proud an' happy I'd be to have ye wipin' yer 
 two little weenshee feet on me every minute of 
 the day." 
 
 " Don't, please ! " She was defending herself 
 more vigorously than he had expected. "You 
 must really behave. Do you know you're talk- 
 ing very strangely." 
 
 "I'm talking the language of love, darlint," 
 he protested, " an' I hope that'll never be strange 
 to ye as long as Mat O'Hara has a tongue in his 
 head." 
 
 Mrs. Delaney was beginning to yield. His 
 arm had stolen round her waist and he was 
 bending down to look in her face. 
 
 "Well," she began bashfully, and speaking 
 very low 
 
 " Spake up, avick," he broke in. " Say that 
 ye love 'me. Out wid it. Sure I've read it in 
 yer eyes this many a day." 
 
 At this juncture up dashed Molly, breathless 
 and dishevelled. She took in the situation at a 
 glance. 
 
 " Mamma, dear," the girl panted as her 
 mother abruptly drew away from the encircling 
 arm, " come in a moment. I want you par- 
 ticularly." 
 
 " Molly, child, how untidy you look," re- 
 proved the elder lady, "and where are your 
 manners?" Don't you see Mr. O'Hara?" 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. O'Hara?" Molly 
 uttered perfunctorily, and then renewed her 
 94
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 importunity. " Won't you come in with me. 
 It's most urgent." 
 
 " I think yer mamma will find betther enter- 
 tainment here," said Mat, and he turned 
 to Mrs. Delaney. "Eh, ducky?" 
 
 "Oh, do come, mamma dear," pleaded the 
 agonised girl. Then seeing that her mother 
 hesitated and glanced at her companion, she 
 added in desperation. " Mr. O'Hara will come 
 too." 
 
 " Sorra fear of it, honey," returned the wooer. 
 " Mat O'Hara knows when he's well off. Eh, 
 my little chickabiddy groundsel?" and, as he 
 spoke, his arm stole once more round Mrs. 
 Delaney's waist. 
 
 Molly stood for a moment appalled, and then 
 turned and fled back by the way she had come. 
 
 " I'll bring Uncle Gerald," she said to her- 
 self, as she ran. 
 
 Mat felt that time was growing short and bent 
 all his energies to bring matters to a crisis. 
 
 " Say ye'll be mine," he urged. " Only one 
 little word?" 
 
 " It seems so foolish," simpered the widow. 
 " With grown-up children too." 
 
 1 ' What have they to do wid the state of yer 
 affections?" cried O'Hara, indignantly. "Come 
 Emmie, say ye'll marry me. Ye'll niver do 
 betther. Ballintubber's a sweet place, an' sure 
 life won't be worth livin' till I see yerself in it." 
 
 What form of words Mrs. Delaney chose to 
 
 convey her assent will never be known, nor is it 
 
 certain that she spake at all; but Mat put his 
 
 own interpretation on her speech, or on her 
 
 95
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 silence, and the next moment she was in his 
 arms. 
 
 He had time to snatch but a single kiss and 
 exultantly exclaim, " Hurroo for the luck of the 
 O'Hara'sl" when Molly appeared, urging her 
 uncle forward. 
 
 Mrs. Delaney extricated herself with a faint 
 scream, but Mat was in nowise abashed. 
 
 "Hello, brother-in-law," he exclaimed, 
 " you're just in time to hear, the good news. 
 Shall I tell him, Emmie darlint, or shall I lave 
 him to guess it?" 
 
 Though long expected, this revelation came 
 to Gerald with a shock that momentarily stunned 
 him. Ignoring the Squireen's impertinence, he 
 turned limply to Molly. 
 
 "Too late," he said. "Too late, I'm 
 afraid." 
 
 " Begob, I'll tell him," continued O'Hara, 
 briskly. " Why should we make a sacret of it. 
 Sure we're all a family party together, an' it'll be 
 in the papers soon. I'm the luckiest man in the 
 Barony, Gerald avick. Emmie here has just 
 promised to have me." 
 
 "It isn't true, is it Emmie? You're not 
 going to marry this this " Gerald broke off 
 without committing himself to an epithet. 
 
 "Thrue," cried Mat, swaggering forward. 
 " D'ye think I'd be afther lyin' to ye? To be 
 sure it's thrue ! Have ye anything to say agen 
 it?" 
 
 " Emmie," Gerald persisted, " I'm waiting 
 for your answer. Have you promised to marry 
 th\s~-gentleman ?" 
 
 96
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " I trust you approve, Gerald dear," faltered 
 Mrs. Delaney. 
 
 "No I don't," answered her brother-in-law, 
 bluntly. 
 
 O'Hara thrust his face close to Gerald's. 
 
 " What have ye agen me, Mr. Gerald 
 Delaney?" he shouted. " Maybe I'm not good 
 enough for your sister. The O'rfaras are as 
 long in the county as the best Delaney that ever 
 stepped in Liscarrick, an' I could buy an' sell 
 the place an' all that's in it." 
 
 " I am not calling in question either the 
 length of your pedigree or the depth of your 
 purse," answered Gerald icily. " I suppose I 
 am entitled to my own opinion of the connection, 
 nevertheless." 
 
 ''An' why? What have ye agen me?" 
 persisted Mat. 
 
 " For one thing, I disapprove of widows 
 marrying at all." 
 
 " Don't say that, Gerald dear," pleaded his 
 sister-in-law. 
 
 " Oh, you ! I'm ashamed of you !" he retorted, 
 almost brutally. 
 
 " Oh, but you mustn't think hard of me," she 
 went on. "I'm sure I esteemed and loved your 
 dear brother as much as any woman could. He 
 was trying sometimes, I'll admit, but I loved 
 oh yes, I loved him, and was a good wife to 
 him." 
 
 "If he wouldn't like it, he'd a right to have 
 stopped alive," interposed the Squireen. 
 
 Gerald turned on his heel and addressed his 
 niece, whose face of agony and terror, as she 
 
 a
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 stood silent and listening, emphasised the 
 tragedy that underlay this strange scene. 
 
 " Molly, go and see if you can find your 
 brother." 
 
 Mat felt he was master of the situation and 
 acquiesced. 
 
 " Ay, do, Molly acushla," he said. " Sure, its 
 at a moment like this I'd wish to have all me 
 childher round me." Then as she turned to go, 
 he grasped her by the shoulder. 
 
 " But there's no hurry; haven't ye a kiss for 
 yer dada afore ye start? " 
 
 " How dare you ? Let me go," panted Molly, 
 furiously. 
 
 "Not without a kiss," the other persisted. 
 " Come, be a good little girl I " 
 
 " Let her go, sir," interposed Gerald, now 
 thoroughly angry. " I'm sending my niece on 
 
 message." 
 
 '''Send yer niece to the divil if ye like," re- 
 torted O'Hara. " That's no reason I shouldn't 
 kiss me daughter," and he bent down towards 
 Molly. 
 
 With all the strength of her young arm, and 
 it was not small, Molly smote him straight be- 
 iween the eyes. 
 
 " Let me go, you great brute 1 " sfie cried, and 
 as O'Hara staggered back, confused and aston- 
 ished, she sped on her errand. 
 
 Mrs. Delaney screamed and subsided into a 
 garden chair, where she sat, weeping softly and 
 wringing her hands. 
 
 " Begorra, she's as strong as a two year ould 
 Heifer," said Mat as he struggled to his feet, for 
 08
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 he had tripped as he gave back and measured his 
 length on the turf. Then he faced Gerald with 
 a lowering look. " It's well for ye that it wasn't 
 you give me that shot." 
 
 Gerald looked him up and down, and his 
 fingers itched to serve the bully as Molly had 
 done; but in an instant Mrs. Delaney had risen 
 and was clinging to Mat's arm, hoping he was 
 not hurt and begging both men in turn to shake 
 hands and be friends. 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know what all this trouble 
 is about," she wailed. " Dear knows, I'm only 
 anxious to please everybody." 
 
 " Which is the surest way of pleasing no- 
 body," retorted Gerald, who by a violent effort 
 had got his temper again in hand. 
 
 " I ax ye once more, what have ye agen me? " 
 said O'Hara, who could not help carrying his 
 hand to his face from time to time and holding 
 it there as if in pain. 
 
 " If I told you, I don't think you would under- 
 stand," answered Gerald. " But this gentleman 
 is his mother's natural guardian. Ask him." 
 
 For Bob was now approaching with his 
 sister. 
 
 "Oh, him! "said the Squireen contemptu- 
 ously. " He won't offer to shut the dure in me 
 face. Ye wouldn't have me for a partner in the 
 little harse, Bob; maybe we'll get on betther 
 when I'm a mimber of the family." 
 
 " Never with my good will, Mat O'Hara," 
 Bob replied. 
 
 But Gerald, as he listened, realised that his 
 nephew was not to be depended upon, and that 
 
 99
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 himself must bear the brunt of this battle in his 
 own person. Bob was clearly afraid of the 
 Squireen. The thought of the sixteen hundred 
 cowed him. 
 
 "Oh dear," sighed Mrs. Delaney. "This 
 ought to be the happiest day of my life one of 
 the happiest, I should say and I declare you 
 all do all you can to make me wretched." 
 
 " Niver heed them, darlint," said Mat con- 
 solingly. " A purty thing it would be if child- 
 her could forbid their parents' marriages. Sure 
 there'd be no childher at all at that rate." 
 
 Meanwhile uncle and nephew exchanged a few 
 rapid words. 
 
 "We're powerless," the former whispered, 
 " all we can do is to spar for time." 
 
 Then he approached the Squireen with a 
 complete change of manner. 
 
 " Well, Mr. O'Hara, I can see nothing to be 
 gained by quarrelling. My sister-in-law must 
 be the judge of her own happiness." 
 
 " Now ye're talking sinse," cried Mat. " An' 
 ye'll dance at the weddin' ? " 
 
 " Surely," said Gerald. 
 
 But Molly plucked him by the sleeve. 
 
 "What are you saying, uncle? I wouldn't 
 have believed " 
 
 "Hush, Molly! You don't understand." 
 
 "We'll do the thing in style," boasted 
 O'Hara, heedless or unobservant of this by-play. 
 "Postillions an' white favours an' lashins of 
 whisky punch. We were talkin' of New Year's 
 Day, weren't we, Emmie? " 
 
 "Oh no! No day was mentioned 1 "
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "New Year's Day, O'Hara!" cried Gerald. 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 4 ' An' I say oh yes," asserted Mat. 
 
 "But consider ; that's less than two weeks off." 
 
 "An' I'd be the betther plazed if it was only 
 two minutes," asserted this impetuous wooer. 
 
 " Come O'Hara," urged Gerald, " you and I 
 are men of the world. We know that ladies 
 have their little preparations to make on these 
 occasions. We mustn't hurry them." 
 
 " I couldn't possibly be ready for months," 
 cried Emmie, helplessly. 
 
 11 Och, murther," ejaculated O'Hara. " Sure 
 what's the good of waitin' like that? It's not 
 younger we'll be gettin', either of us." 
 
 " About Easter, now, is a very fashionable 
 time," suggested Gerald, diplomatically. 
 
 "I'm no fashionable man," said Mat dog- 
 gedly, "and I won't face Lent single. Spake 
 up, darlint, an' make it a short coortin' ? " 
 
 " Two months would be the very least or 
 three," hesitated the bride elect. 
 
 O'Hara took her up short. 
 
 " Two! " I pin ye to it. That'll bring us to 
 February. We'll be married, wid the blessing 
 of St. Valentine, the very day all the little dickey- 
 birds pair. That's when we'll mate eh, me 
 little wood pigeon ? " 
 
 And Mrs. Delaney, after a proper show of coy 
 reluctance, assented. 
 
 Bob, to whom a reprieve was ever as good as 
 a pardon, felt that his uncle had scored a victory, 
 and conveyed as much to him in an exultant 
 whisper.
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " A lot of things can happen in two months." 
 "A lot of things can be made to happen," 
 replied Gerald, significantly.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MOLLY MEETS AN ADVENTURE AND FINDS A 
 PROTECTOR. 
 
 MRS. DELANEY had withdrawn to her room to 
 rest while Mat O'Hara, deliberately setting him- 
 self to win Bob back to his allegiance, had linked 
 arms with the young master of Liscarrick, and 
 led him in the direction of the stable yard. 
 
 Bob submitted as rebelliously as a miscoupled 
 greyhound, yet, taking his cue from his uncle, 
 and conscious that the latter had some plan 
 whose execution involved keeping on terms with 
 the Squireen, he did his best to respond to the 
 other's boisterous gaiety and even listened to his 
 criticism of "the little harse, " with a show of 
 respect. 
 
 Molly's mood, meanwhile, was little short 
 of despairing. She was beginning to fear 
 O'Hara as much as she hated him, and her heart 
 bled for her weak, good-natured mother. The 
 girl could imagine no fate more dreadful than 
 that on which she was blindly rushing. 
 
 Yearning for companionship and a sympa- 
 thetic ear in which to pour her troubles, Molly 
 followed her uncle into the library, but he speedily 
 dismissed her, saying he wanted to be alone to 
 smoke and think. 
 
 Repulsed in this quarter she left the house to 
 try if a good brisk walk might not, as it had often 
 done in pettier sorrows, allay her misgivings and 
 bring her peace. 
 
 103
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 She took the lower bog road, partly because it 
 was lonely and partly because it was the most 
 likely way for Jack Whalen to choose on his way 
 back from shooting. 
 
 She stepped out at a smart pace, for she was a 
 good walker, and cared little for the darkness 
 which had begun to close in even before sfie set 
 out, and was now as thick as it usually is at five 
 o'clock of a December evening. 
 
 Pursuing her own reflections, and occasionally 
 breaking into a run, like a horse under the spur, 
 when stung by some maddening thought, the 
 girl had gone, perhaps, a couple of miles, when 
 the clatter of hoofs behind her caused her to 
 draw into the side of the road, and as the rider 
 came up with her she recognised the Squireen. 
 
 She blamed herself for not remembering that 
 the road she had chosen was an acknowledged 
 short cut to Ballintubber, but she bent her head 
 and pursued her way, trusting to escape notice 
 in the darkness. 
 
 Mat O'Hara, however, had a keen eye for a 
 good figure, and this clean-stepping colleen on a 
 lonely road promised an adventure quite to his 
 taste. He reined up as he drew abreast of her, 
 and stooping from the saddle, endeavoured to 
 make out the girl's features. But Molly's head 
 was resolutely averted. 
 
 " Where are ye off to in such a hurry, me 
 pretty lass? " he asked. " Don't be sthrivin' to 
 run away," he went on, as Molly involuntarily 
 quickened her pace, " or if ye're in a raal hurry 
 I'm quite agreeable to take ye up behind me." 
 
 On this she stopped suddenly, and his horse's 
 104
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 pace carried him beyond her. But he reined in 
 and, dismounting, was beside her again in a 
 moment. 
 
 " Don't be so shy, acushla," he whispered in 
 his most winning tones. " Just come along with 
 me. It's only a short mile or two home, walkin' 
 or ridin' yer choice, an' ye'll find me the height 
 of pleasant company." 
 
 Molly would fain have retained her incognito, 
 but he attempted to slip his arm round her as he 
 spoke, and she was terrified. She twisted her- 
 self out of his grasp and faced him. 
 
 "For shame, Mat O'Hara," she cried. 
 " Don't you dare to lay a finger on me." 
 
 Mat recognised her on the instant. The 
 voice was enough even if he had not seen the 
 face, and he was momentarily taken aback. If 
 the man had been quite sober it is probable he 
 would have muttered an apology and gone on 
 his way. But he had come to Liscarrick well 
 primed, and he had not been slow to accept 
 Bob's sulky proffer of refreshment, so, his native 
 impudence coming to his aid, he stood his 
 ground. 
 
 "So it's yourself, is it?" he said. "I 
 couldn't make out who was in it, but one niver 
 knows his luck. Now Miss Molly, av ye plaze, 
 I'll take that kiss I didn't get awhile ago, though 
 I ped dear enough for it." 
 
 "Stand back!" she cried. "I'll hit harder 
 this time." 
 
 " That I'll go bail ye won't," retorted O'Hara, 
 and he seized the girl's wrists. " Now, me 
 lady," he growled, " I think I've go! ye." 
 105
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 But Molly fought like a wild cat, sending forth 
 shriek after shriek into the stillness of the 
 night. 
 
 " The divil take ye, will ye stop that yowlin'," 
 panted O'Hara. All the obstinacy of his nature 
 was aroused, and he was determined to have that 
 kiss, cost what it might. But Molly struggled 
 fiercely, though with failing strength, as the 
 man gradually over-mastered her resistance. 
 
 With a last despairing scream for help she 
 suddenly threw herself on the ground, thereby 
 breaking for the moment his hold on her wrists. 
 At the same instant a powerful grip fell on 
 O'Hara's collar from behind, plucking him 
 backward. 
 
 *' You blackguard," uttered Jack Whalen's 
 voice ; " how dare you ? " 
 
 And at the words, which seemed to her the 
 most welcome she had ever heard, for the first 
 time in her life Molly fainted. 
 
 " Mind yer own business," yelled the infuri- 
 ated Squireen, turning savagely on the new- 
 comer. " Mayn't a man kiss his own 
 daughter?" 
 
 "No, nor anyone else's against her will while 
 I'm around," was Jack's reply. 
 
 " Lave this while the goin's good," thundered 
 Mat, " or I'll give ye a clip at the back of the 
 lug that'll sicken ye." 
 
 " Try it," responded Jack, tersely. 
 
 And Mat did try it, to his immediate discom- 
 fiture. Jack Whalen's hands had been taught to 
 keep his head, and in a moment the bully was 
 rolling on the frosty road. 
 106
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "If you want any more, I've plenty left," 
 said Jack, but the Squireen apparently was satis- 
 fied, and scrambling to his feet, stumbled to- 
 wards his horse. 
 
 But Jack was before him, and giving the 
 animal a hearty smack on the quarter, he started 
 it down the road. 
 
 " You can walk," he observed. " It will cool 
 your hot blood, and there will be a moon 
 directly." 
 
 So Mat O'Hara walked. 
 
 The dragon thus disposed of, Jack turned to 
 seek the damsel in distress whom he had rescued. 
 In the darkness and confusion, he had recog- 
 nised neither Molly nor O'Hara. She was sit- 
 ting up when he reached her, for her momentary 
 unconsciousness had lasted scarce longer than 
 the winking of an eyelid. It was rather the 
 protest of overstrained nerves than the result of 
 physical exhaustion. 
 
 He stretched out his hand to help her to her 
 feet. 
 
 She took it and rose, and then he knew her. 
 
 " Molly!" he exclaimed. 
 
 She thought her pretty Irish name had never 
 sounded so sweet as now when she heard it for 
 the first time from his lips. 
 
 "Molly," he exclaimed, "I had no idea 
 why, what a fortunate thing I came by this road. 
 Who was that ruffian?" 
 
 But Molly reflected. " If I tell him who it 
 was, he will not stop at this, and O'Hara is so 
 persistent and unscrupulous, mischief might 
 come of their meeting," so she replied: 
 107
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Some drunken beast. I shouldn't have 
 come out of the place at all so late. It's fair day 
 at Drine and the roads are full of them." 
 
 " Indeed you should not," assented Jack. 
 " It was the merest chance I came this road. I 
 was just debating if I could have missed my way 
 when I heard you scream." 
 
 " Thank God you did," said Molly, fervently. 
 
 "Thank God indeed," he repeated, as he 
 stooped to grope for his gun, which he had drop- 
 ped at the moment of his encounter with O'Hara. 
 
 It was quickly found, and the two paced along 
 the darkling lane together. 
 
 Much may be said in a two mile walk, and 
 Molly's tongue was not idle. Only keeping 
 back the identity. of her late assailant, she gave 
 her companion a full account of the afternoon's 
 happenings at Liscarrick. He heard her in con- 
 sternation. 
 
 " But this is too terrible," he said. " Do you 
 mean to tell me that your mother is really in 
 really cares for that creature? " 
 
 " I'm afraid she does," answered the girl, " at 
 any rate, she fancies she does." 
 
 "Then, Molly, this is no fit home for you ! " 
 
 " Molly " again! She heard it with a faint, 
 delightful flutter at the heart. It seemed to mean 
 so much as he spoke it. But she answered 
 calmly enough. 
 
 " If Mat O'Hara comes to Liscarrick, it cer- 
 tainly is no home for me or any decent person. 
 But what can one do? " 
 
 Then Jack spoke. He was only a struggling 
 journalist, he said; he had not much to offer 
 108
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 her; but what he had was hers, and he loved 
 her with his whole heart. Would she? could 
 she? and much more to the same purpose. 
 
 And Molly thought she could, and said she 
 would. 
 
 By the time this was fully understood and 
 settled they had reached Liscarrick. Lights 
 were burning in the hall, and they paused a 
 moment in the dusk of the porch for the final 
 words that always seem to leave still more to 
 say. Jack took her hand, but he fancied she 
 shrank from him. 
 
 "Molly!" he whispered, reproachfully. 
 
 "Oh, it isn't that," she said, quick to inter- 
 pret his meaning. " Here's my hand, only go 
 gently with my wrist, for it's very painful." 
 
 He led her into the lighted hall and bent to 
 examine the little hand. When he saw the 
 liivid marks on the white arm he drew in his 
 breath wdth a sharp intake. 
 
 " That cursed brute! I wish I hadn't let him 
 off so easily." 
 
 Then he stopped and let fall on the bruised 
 flesh a kiss as light as a snowBake. 
 
 " Poor you ! " he whispered. 
 
 Gerald, emerging from the library at the con- 
 clusion of his "smoke and think," saw the 
 action. They did not observe him, and he 
 turned, and very quietly re-entered the room. 
 
 109
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 
 
 WHEN they parted in the hall Jack sought the 
 library where he found Gerald, and after en- 
 during a certain amount of good natured chaff, 
 poured into his friend's sympathetic ear the tale 
 of his newly-found happiness. 
 
 Molly went straight to her mother. 
 
 Mrs. Delaney was dressing for dinner an 
 operation of some duration as the lady conducted 
 it, and involving no little skill. Molly, who was 
 hot and cold by turns as she recalled her adven- 
 ture on the bog road, hardly waited for a reply 
 to her knock ere she burst into the room. 
 
 11 Mamma, I've been grossly insulted by Mr. 
 O'Hara!" 
 
 Mrs. Delaney, still poising her powder-puff, 
 stared at her daughter open-mouthed. 
 
 " You're dreaming, child. Mr. O'Hara went 
 home hours ago." 
 
 " Maybe so, but he met me on Ihe lower road, 
 beyond the lime-kiln, and was dreadfully rude to 
 me," maintained the girl, her cheeks flaming 
 anew as she recalled the circumstances. 
 
 "How long ago was this?" asked Mrs. 
 Delaney, with a provoking air of incredulity. 
 " I heard half-past four strike sometime before 
 he left." 
 
 " Five o'clock, or thereabouts," answered 
 Molly shortly.
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Dark night!" said her mother. "How 
 often have I told you not to wander about the 
 roads so late, and Drine fair of all nights." 
 
 " I was wrong to go out, I admit," but there 
 was no penitence in Molly's tone, " I went 
 further than I intended. I didn't think where 
 I was going, I was so put out at at what I 
 heard to-day. But that's no reason the man 
 should have insulted me." 
 
 "I'm sure he never meant to insult you, dear. 
 You are too touchy. His manner may be a 
 little brusque at times, but his heart is in the 
 right place." 
 
 "Brusque, do you call it? Look at my 
 wrists," and Molly slipped off the bed where 
 she had seated herself and held out her arms 
 for her mother's inspection. 
 
 " Molly, dear, how you're bruised. Wait a 
 minute; I've some Pond's extract somewhere," 
 and Mrs. Delaney began to open and shut 
 drawers in an unavailing search. " Will you 
 tell me what happened?" 
 
 "I've been trying to," said the girl, "but 
 you seem not to believe me. I tell you this 
 precious O'Hara of yours overtook me on the 
 bog road and insulted me and held my hands 
 till he hurt me like this, and tried to kiss me 
 Ugh ! ' and Molly's face was eloquent of her 
 disgust. 
 
 " Impossible! Mr. O'Hara is a gentleman." 
 
 "Is he?" retorted Molly. " Anyhow, I'm 
 telling you what he's done. Make the most of 
 it." 
 
 fS I'm not doubting you, dear," said the
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 mother, woefully perplexed and perturbed, " only 
 I think you must be mistaken. We all know 
 there are horrid drunken men about every fair 
 day, but it was five o'clock, you say. It must 
 have been as dark as pitch. How do you know 
 it was Mr. O'Hara?" 
 
 " How do I know anything ? I saw him " 
 
 "In the dark," interposed Mrs. Delaney. 
 
 " You must take me for a fool," exclaimed her 
 daughter hotly, for her patience was exhausted. 
 " And I heard his voice," she added. 
 
 " Mr. O'Hara has the accent of the country. 
 You may easily have been mistaken in the 
 voice." 
 
 " Oh, very well ! None so blind as those who 
 will not see. I say it was O'Hara, and I was 
 there and you were not," and Molly moved to- 
 wards the door. 
 
 " Nonsense," said the elder lady, growing 
 irritable in her turn. " It was quite easy for you 
 to make a mistake I know your prejudice 
 against the poor fellow, but Mat is quite too 
 much the gentleman to be guilty of such a 
 thing." 
 
 11 Maybe so," said Molly quietly, " but I hold 
 my own opinion still." 
 
 " Stopping you on the road ! The idea," pur- 
 sued the widow, beginning to realise that, if 
 Molly were to be believed, her lover's fealty to 
 her own charms must be slight indeed. " The 
 idea ! as if he would be likely to bother his head 
 about a chit of a girl like you." 
 
 " If that's the way you look at it, there's no 
 more to be said," observed Molly, opening the
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 door. She looked back to add: "And please 
 say nothing about the matter downstairs. Above 
 all, don't say I accused Mat O'Hara." 
 
 "I certainly shall not," assented Mrs. 
 Delaney. " I am little likely to countenance 
 such a charge against my affianced husband, and 
 I am not anxious that your uncle or his friend 
 should know you went outside the place after 
 dark on such a night as this." 
 
 Mrs. Delaney was angry, and anger made her 
 unjust. Moreover, she could not quite bring 
 herself to think that there was not some founda- 
 tion for her daughter's unshakeable opinion, and 
 jealousy stirred within her. That a man should 
 vow eternal love for her and then go, with her 
 kisses on his lips, to seek a similar favour from 
 another woman, and that woman her daughter! 
 No, she would not believe unless she heard it 
 from himself. It was unthinkable. 
 
 Molly closed the door and sought her room, 
 where she proceeded to overhaul her scanty ward- 
 robe with a view to selecting the dress whose 
 sleeves came down most closely to cover the 
 wrists. 
 
 Her simple toilet completed, she ran down- 
 stairs, hoping to secure a quiet ten minutes with 
 her uncle before dinner. 
 
 Gerald was pacing up and down the hall. He 
 had been much upset by the day's happenings, 
 and the definite news of Molly's engagement was 
 the sole thing that pleased him. He was looking 
 out for her, and when she appeared he led her 
 into the library. After he had duly kissed and 
 congratulated her, he asked, 
 
 "3 
 
 H
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Now, Molly, what is all this Jack has been 
 telling me about a drunken ruffian attacking you 
 on the bog road ? ' ' 
 
 "He wasn't drunk, at least he seemed no 
 drunker than usual," she replied. " It was Mat 
 O'Hara." 
 
 " My God! " cried Gerald, falling back a step 
 in his amazement. "You can't mean that!" 
 
 " It is perfectly true," asserted Molly. 
 
 '* And he .... Well, I had no high opinion 
 of him, but I didn't conceive he could be such a 
 blackguard as that. And he caught hold of 
 you, and hurt your arms cruelly, Jack says. 
 Let me look. Oh, I see, you have them covered 
 up." 
 
 " As well as I could," Molly answered, push- 
 ing back her tight sleeve a little way. "There 
 you can just see." 
 
 1 ' The d d brute, ' ' cried her uncle. ' ' Well 
 
 we have him now, I think. But Jack spoke as 
 if he did not know him. I gathered that it was 
 the act of some casual ruffian." 
 
 "Jack did not recognise him. It was very 
 dark, and the whole thing didn't take a minute. 
 And I don't want him to know who it was. 
 Uncle, you must promise me not to tell him." 
 
 "Why?" asked Gerald, surprised. 
 
 " Oh Uncle, I'd be so ashamed if he knew. I 
 never could look him in the face again. It's bad 
 enough while he thinks it was just a drunken 
 man from the fair but someone he's met in this 
 house! Oh, promise, uncle!" 
 
 " All right. I'll let it go at that so far as Jack 
 is concerned," said Gerald. " But there's one 
 114
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 person who must be told, and told at once, and 
 that's your mother." 
 
 "I've told her, not half an hour ago," 
 answered Molly. 
 
 "You have! Well, what did she say?" 
 
 11 She didn't believe me," said Molly shortly. 
 
 "Not believe you! But that's absurd. Did 
 she see the state of your wrists? " 
 
 " Oh, she believes someone attacked me, but 
 Mr. O'Hara is quite too much of a gentleman in 
 her eyes to make such behaviour on his part con- 
 ceivable." 
 
 "She's a pretty judge of a gentleman," mut- 
 tered Gerald bitterly. 
 
 He referred to the fact, well nigh forgotten 
 in the changed neighbourhood but vividly re- 
 membered in the family circle of the proud 
 Delaneys, that Emmie Hogan had originally 
 come to Liscarrick in the humble capacity of 
 nursery governess, though she had remained to 
 marry the eldest son of the house, and rule there 
 after he had gone. 
 
 Molly quite understood the reference. 
 " Mamma is infatuated about this fellow, that is 
 clear," she said. "She'll believe nothing 
 against him, and if she did I don't suppose it 
 would make much difference." 
 
 "She must believe," replied Gerald with em- 
 phasis. "There's the gong, dear, run along. 
 I won't tell Jack, only you must change this 
 anxious, troubled face. That's no kind of a 
 mug for a newly-engaged young lady to present 
 to her lover."
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE SQUIREEN'S VERSION. 
 
 THE next morning's post bag brought Mrs. 
 Delaney her first letter from the Squireen. It 
 was certainly a love letter, if passionate phrases 
 and terms of endearment could make it such, but 
 to the lady it was more precious still, since it 
 proved that Mat could not possibly have been the 
 guilty person in the affair of the previous 
 evening. 
 
 He had met with an accident overnight, he 
 wrote, and would have to keep his bed for a few 
 days. Nothing serious ; his dearest Emmie was 
 not to be uneasy, but the fact was he had not 
 gone straight home on leaving Liscarrick, but 
 had ridden into Drine to assist Tim Reilly, his 
 herd, in driving home some store bullocks from 
 the fair. " The beasts," he explained, " was up 
 in themselves and mighty unaisy to handle. 
 One of them made a run at me and rolled me over 
 on the road, and two or three of them stepped 
 on me. I think no bones is broke, but I'm a bit 
 shook, and one of them put his foot on my face 
 and left it very sore. It'll be a few days afore 
 I can get round to see you, and that hurts me 
 more nor my face." 
 
 And so with much love and many crosses taste- 
 fully executed in ink, he signed himself "Your 
 loving Mat." 
 
 This was a perfect alibi, and proved that Molly 
 116
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 had been mistaken, to her mother's entire satis- 
 faction. But, strangely enough, the girl did not 
 accept it. Indeed, she roundly asserted that 
 there was only a single statement she could 
 believe in the whole letter, and that was that 
 O'Hara's face would not be presentable for a 
 few days. Asked why this should find more 
 credence than the rest, Molly hesitated and 
 changed colour, for she remembered, only just in 
 time, that she had not explained to her mother 
 how she had escaped from her assailant, nor 
 alluded to Jack Whalen's share in the matter in 
 any way. 
 
 < Well, since you are so obstinate," said Mrs. 
 Delaney, irritably. " perhaps you'd like me to 
 send for Tim Reilly and question him?" 
 
 " Waste of time," answered Molly, curtly. "I 
 wouldn't believe either of them on oath. What 
 one says the other swears to." 
 
 So mother and daughter were as far from 
 agreeing as ever, but the pangs of jealousy 
 which, spite of herself, had tortured the elder 
 lady, were assuaged. 
 
 The post brought also a note from Miss 
 Fetherstone inviting the Liscarrick party to lun- 
 cheon, and admonishing the young people to 
 bring their skates, for the frost had increased in 
 intensity, and there was every indication that the 
 ice on the Priory pond would bear. 
 
 There was much overhauling of derelict skates 
 and fitting of straps, for such occasions come but 
 rarely in Ireland, and must be promptly seized 
 when they appear. 
 
 Gerald and his nephew were engaged in this 
 117
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 occupation when the latter remarked, 
 
 " Good job O'Hara is laid up, and won't be 
 louting around here for some time to come. The 
 only pity is that beast of a bullock didn't dash 
 his brains out when it was about it." 
 
 For Bob fully accepted the O'Hara version of 
 the accident. Indeed, he had not been told of 
 his sister's adventure at all. 
 
 "It might have simplified matters," agreed 
 Gerald, smiling, as he recalled the real cause of 
 the Squireen's injuries, " but I think you'll find 
 he'll live to plague us yet. And bear in mind 
 there are not many days to run before that big 
 note of ours falls due." 
 
 "Oh, they'll renew," remarked Bob, with his 
 usual optimism. 
 
 "Bob, you're incorrigible!" exclaimed his 
 uncle. " There's nothing gained by renewing. 
 The debt only grows bigger, and has to be paid 
 in the end. No sign of an offer for the horse, 
 I suppose?" 
 
 " Not a nibble," replied Bob, morosely. This 
 was a sore subject with him. Under pressure 
 he had agreed to sell the animal if a reasonable 
 price could be obtained, but secretly he believed 
 in it as much as ever, and took no active steps 
 to find a purchaser. 
 
 " Surely, if the brute is worth anything at all 
 someone would make some kind of offer," said 
 Gerald, impatiently. " I'll put in an advertise- 
 ment." 
 
 " Don't do that," cried his nephew, apprehen- 
 sively. " That's the sure way to make little of 
 him. Who ever heard of a thoroughbred adver- 
 118
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Used for sale like a shire mare. Better wait our 
 chance, it's sure to come." 
 
 "There's one thing surer to come," retorted 
 the other, "and that's the day our note will be 
 presented, and, so far as I can see, protested." 
 
 "Look here, uncle mine; do be reasonable. 
 Here's a hard frost; the roads are lifie glass, the 
 ground is like iron. I daren't take Liscarrick out 
 of the yard to show him let alone sell him. And 
 we must get our price for him, and a bit more. 
 It will take well over sixteen hundred to clear us 
 as it is. Sell him at a loss, and we're worse off 
 than ever." 
 
 "I could make up some part of if," said 
 Gerald, gloomily, and relapsed into silence. He 
 had a keener appreciation of Bob's selfishness 
 than he had had a month before. If the transac- 
 tion were to do again, so he told himself, his sig- 
 nature would be lacking. 
 
 There's another thing," he presently re- 
 sumed. " This business of your mother's. 
 That must be stopped." 
 
 " Rather," assented his nephew, vaguely, but 
 with emphasis. 
 
 "Now, attend to me," Gerald went on. 'I 
 want you to ask O'Hara to the tenant's spree on 
 Thursday." 
 
 "Ask O'Hara!" repeated Bob, astonished. 
 Then, after a considerable pause, "Molly won't 
 like that." 
 
 "Of course she won't. For the matter of that, 
 none of us'll like it. But he's got to be invite'd 
 ;and made much of, just the same !" 
 
 " All right," replied Boti, " I know you have 
 no
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 some game up to dish the beggar, but hang me if 
 I understand it." 
 
 "It isn't necessary that you should. Only be 
 as nice as pie to him. We might even have him 
 to dinner that night. Jove, that's a good idea," 
 cried Gerald, with something like enthusiasm. 
 " The longer we have him with us the 
 better." 
 
 " Can't say I agree with you," growled Bob. 
 " However, have it your own way. We'll ask 
 him to dinner, and what then ?" 
 
 "That's simple. See that all the decanters are 
 full, and don't be shy to push them round," 
 answered his uncle. "They say that Mat O'Hara 
 is drunk every night of his life. Your mother 
 has never seen him so. Let us try if her sensi- 
 bilities will stand the spectacle." 
 
 "Faith, that's a ripping fine idea," exclaimed 
 Bob. " If there's one thing the mater can't 
 endure it's a drunken man." 
 
 " I can quite believe that," answered Gerald, 
 who remembered that his brother had been a 
 convivial soul, and not always the pleasantest 
 company in his cups. 
 
 " When Mat's drunk he's a holy terror. I've 
 seen him many a time," remarked Bob. Then, 
 as a thought struck him, he fell suddenly grave. 
 " But what if that bullock has mauled him so he 
 can't get around?" 
 
 " Oh, he'll be right enough before Christ- 
 mas," answered Gerald lightly. " I don't be- 
 lieve the bullock in question did more than 
 enough to spoil his beauty for a few days." 
 
 "I don't know," said the other doubtfully,
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " some of those beasts are vicious enough to kill 
 a man." 
 
 "I'm afraid this one stopped short of that 
 extremity," laughed Gerald. "But if he can't 
 come Christmas, we'll put the whole fandango 
 off till New Year. We've got to have him. 
 It's our last chance, and, I believe, a good one." 
 
 Bob mused on this pronouncement, and then 
 his thoughts turned again to "the little harse." 
 He believed it would be sheer madness to sell, 
 and yet his uncle was immovable. Well, so far, 
 the evil day had been postponed, and who could 
 say what luck the future might hold for him. 
 
 The big clock in the hall, chiming the quar- 
 ters preparatory to striking, interrupted his 
 meditations. 
 
 "Time we started," he observed. "We'll 
 have to hoof it, you know. None of the horses 
 are cocked." 
 
 "I'm ready," said Gerald, slinging the skate 
 straps over his shoulder. " Where are Jack 
 and Molly?" 
 
 " Gone half an hour ago; and the mater isn't 
 coming, so we may as well make a move. I say," 
 Bob continued, as they swung down the avenue 
 at a good pace, "you've heard about that pair? 
 Molly and Jack, I mean ?" 
 
 " I have," answered his uncle. " Jack told me 
 last night. Are you pleased?" he added, with 
 some curiosity. 
 
 " Rather," answered Bob. " He seems a right 
 good sort, and it's about the best thing could 
 have happened for Molly. She hasn't exactly 
 a rosy time of it here."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "I quite agree," said Gerald, rather bitterly, 
 as he reflected how little her brother had done to 
 lighten his sister's burdens, and how much, albeit 
 indirectly and unconsciously, he had added to 
 them. 
 
 11 Molly is in luck," pursued Bob. 
 
 "She is," assented Gerald, "and so is Jack 
 Whalen." 
 
 They stepped briskly out, their footsteps ring- 
 ing clear on the frosty road, for they were ambi- 
 tious to accomplish the distance within the hour if 
 possible. And as they walked they elaborated the 
 details of the contemplated exposure of O'Hara. 
 
 " For remember, Bob," his uncle said, " that 
 this is the last chance the last for me, at any 
 rate. I can't stay on here for ever. I'll have to 
 be making tracks in a few weeks." 
 
 "Where to?" asked Bob. 
 
 " Back to San Francisco, of course." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " To earn my living, laddie, which I had 
 started in to do before I was your age." 
 
 "Yes, I know," said Bob. "You have 
 brains and all that. I haven't." He felt 
 aggrieved at his uncle's announcement, and 
 viewed the prospect of being compelled to face 
 his own difficulties unaided with anything but 
 satisfaction. " I don't see the good of it," he 
 remarked, after some minutes of inward self- 
 communing. "You've money enough." 
 
 " For the moment, my boy," said his uncle 
 lightly. " But you know well enough that I'm 
 no millionaire, and other people know it by this 
 time, I should hope."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Not from me," muttered Bob, inaudibly, 
 who, indeed, had spared no pains to spread the 
 fiction of his uncle's wealth wherever he found 
 an opportunity. "Not from me, and I hope 
 you've had the sense to keep your own head 
 shut." 
 
 But this was not meant for Gerald's ears, 
 nor did it reach them, and the two passed 
 through the stately gates of the old Priory 
 without discussing the subject further. 
 
 123
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " I SHALL NEVER FORGET THIS EVENING." 
 
 BRIGHT sunshine, pure invigorating air, and ice 
 in perfect condition had combined to make Miss 
 Fetherstone's skating party an emphatic success. 
 The young people from the Rectory were there, 
 and a few more considering the depleted con- 
 dition of the neighbourhood, it was quite a con- 
 siderable gathering; but no one ever refused an 
 invitation to the Priory, however short the 
 notice. All day the picturesque banks of the 
 pond had echoed merry laughter and ceaseless 
 chaff, and the ice-imprisoned Undine in the 
 depths had hummed a welcome to the steel-shod 
 feet which had never ceased to plough its frozen 
 surface. Even now, when the afternoon was 
 fast giving place to night, and stars began to 
 twinkle here and there in the darkening blue 
 above, enthusiastic skaters were still pursuing 
 each other in games, or taking station for quad- 
 rilles on the smooth, grey ice. 
 
 Kate and Gerald were slowly climbing the 
 steep path that led up to the house. She looked 
 very handsome, a tall graceful figure in her furs, 
 and recent exercise had given to her cheeks the 
 touch of colour which they sometimes lacked. 
 
 Gerald walked beside her, swinging a pair of 
 
 skates in either hand. Earlier in the day he had 
 
 found opportunity to acquaint her with the recent 
 
 occurrences at Liscarrick, but their conversation 
 
 124
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 had been interrupted and fragmentary, as 
 occasion served. Now he had given her the 
 whole tale, beginning with the Squireen's pro- 
 posal to Mrs. Delaney, and going on to Molly's 
 adventure on the Bog road, and her under- 
 standing, as yet unannounced, with Jack 
 Whalen. 
 
 Miss Fetherstone was deeply concerned. She 
 was genuinely delighted at the news of Molly's 
 engagement to her cousin, and was already con- 
 sidering in her warm heart what she could do to 
 make smoother their path for the young lovers, 
 but Mrs. Delaney's position and the attitude she 
 assumed moved her at once to pity and to anger. 
 
 " It's incredible! " she cried hotly. " That a 
 woman in your sister-in-law's position could 
 stoop to even think of such a creature as O'Hara. 
 Why, the man drinks, if there were nothing 
 else." 
 
 " I don't think Emmie knows that," said 
 Gerald. 
 
 " But she's bound to find it out, sooner or 
 later." 
 
 '"Yes," he assented, "she's bound to find it 
 out, and if I can manage it, it will be sooner, not 
 later." 
 
 tf You haven't told her, then ? " 
 
 "Of O'Hara's drinking habits? Yes, I 
 have," he replied, "but there's no use telling 
 Emmie anything about the man. She won't 
 believe you, unless it is proved to demonstration, 
 and even then she doubts. Look at the way the 
 brute treated Molly. Yet nothing will persuade 
 her that O'Hara had anything to do with it."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Poor Molly," sighed Kate pitifully, and 
 then fell silent for a moment. She more than 
 half envied the girl, even while she commiser- 
 ated her. Wooed for herself, won for herself, 
 with a future of hope and struggle, of love and. 
 happiness before her; would such could such 
 ever be her own destiny ? The shadow of the 
 great distillery seemed to fall across her path, 
 and her mood darkened with the darkening twi- 
 light. Half involuntarily she spoke her mind. 
 
 "Yet I don't see why I should say 'Poor 
 Molly.' Hers promises to be a very happy 
 future." 
 
 "I think so," assented Gerald. "She's a 
 good little girl, and Jack's a real good sort. 
 They will be hard up, of course," he continued 
 meditatively, " for a while, at any rate." 
 
 " That's it," Kate broke in impetuously. 
 11 They have chosen each other just for love. 
 There's no other possible reason. That's why 
 I'm sure they'll be happy. That's why I envy 
 Molly." 
 
 Gerald by this time knew his companion in 
 most of her moods, and he saw that she was 
 verging perilously on the morbid. He had seen 
 her in this vein more than once, and did not 
 hesitate to speak out. 
 
 " Drop it," he said lightly, " I know where 
 you're drifting to and I won't have it. You are 
 jolly well off, and your position is the envy of 
 thousands. Every shoe pinches, and only the 
 wearer knows where, but in my opinion trlat old 
 shoemaker, Fate, has provided you with an extra 
 comfortable fit." 
 
 126
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Kate laughed, a little ruefully. 
 
 " Of course you're right as right as anyone 
 can be who has looked at a thing from one side 
 only, and that the outside. Well, here it is, 
 stated plainly. I've got money, Molly has got 
 love. Which of us is the more likely to be 
 happy? " 
 
 " Your turn will come," he said, " I never saw 
 a woman less likely to go through the world 
 loveless." 
 
 With all his restraint he felt that his voice 
 vibrated with intensity, and she noticed it too. 
 
 She answered him lightly. 
 
 " I haven't come to my time of life without 
 encountering lovers, I assure you. I have had 
 idozens, and they were one and all devoted to 
 my stocks and shares." 
 
 "You're incorrigible," laughed Gerald. 
 " You will insist on finding crumples in your 
 rose leaves." 
 
 "Come, hadn't we better go indoors," Kate 
 said abruptly. "They'll be wondering where 
 we are." 
 
 " Not yet," he remonstrated. 
 
 Kate laughed. "Well, it is pleasant here, 
 and I'll try to talk rationally without airing my 
 crochets. Tell me about yourself, your life must 
 have been full of interest. You went to America 
 when you were quite a boy, didn't you ?" 
 
 " Just turned twenty," answered Gerald a little 
 wistfully. Few men can think of their vanished 
 youth without a tinge of regret for it. 
 
 " Ah, that is a career I can respect," ex- 
 claimed Kate impulsively. " To face the world 
 127
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 in the first flush of life a man among men ! 
 To force it to accept you and accord you the 
 place you win by your own exertion ! It must 
 be glorious." 
 
 " Do you think so? To sneak downstairs on 
 tip-toe of a morning, hoping to escape a meeting 
 with the landlady, yet fully conscious that you'll 
 find her waiting for you on your return, with the 
 eternal question, ' are you going to pay me that 
 six dollars, or are you not?' " 
 
 " I see," she answered thoughtfully. ' Money 
 has it's uses after all, but success comes at last 
 comes through your own efforts. That is 
 where I envy you men. What a triumph that 
 must be." 
 
 "By the time success comes if it comes " 
 Gerald answered slowly, " I think one is gen- 
 erally too tired for such a vivid sensation as 
 triumph. Satisfaction, yes, and relief from the 
 long tension." 
 
 "But your homecoming," she insisted. 
 "Surely that made amends." 
 
 "What a homecoming!" Gerald answered 
 with a laugh full of bitterness. " Fancy coming 
 back to Liscarrick to encounter a nightmare like 
 O'Hara. Ruin has come to many an Irish 
 house in these times, but surely it never came in 
 such an objectionable shape as this." 
 
 It had grown quite dark and they were still 
 pacing up and down the terrace. But now, 
 sifting silver through the leafless beech boughs, 
 a faint radiance whitened the gloom. The moon 
 was rising. And from far down the path they 
 had just climbed came the sound of laughing 
 128
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 voices. The skaters were coming up from the 
 pond. 
 
 Kate had returned no answer to Gerald's 
 outburst. In truth she did not know what to 
 say. She was deeply sympathetic, but found 
 no words. It was very, very hard on him. 
 
 " It will be very rough on Bob," she said at 
 last. 
 
 "Bob!" echoed Gerald. "I have no 
 sympathy for him. It was he who brought this 
 blight on us first. Poor little Molly! She's 
 the one I pity.' 
 
 " Molly will marry soon and leave it all," said 
 Kate. " That was a swift wooing. Do you 
 believe in love at first sight?" 
 
 " I can't say I do," he answered. " A good 
 woman is worthy of something better than such 
 an explosive affection. Jack saw quite enough 
 of Molly to know her value before he spoke. I 
 don't believe a real love can spring up full grown 
 at sight of a pretty face." 
 
 "The poets are against you there," she 
 smiled. 
 
 " Of course; they are always against the facts. 
 Poets idealize, nature realizes. They speak 
 from sentiment, I, from experience. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Delaney, have you been in love? 
 This grows most interesting. Do tell me." 
 
 " I didn't mean that," said Gerald 
 awkwardly. " I should not have said I spoke 
 from experience. Observation is the word I 
 meant to use." 
 
 "That's a mean way to get out of it," she 
 retorted, scanning his face in the growing light, 
 iag
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 for the moon was beginning to show above the 
 trees. " Come, I hold you to your experience, 
 let us have it." 
 
 "I have had but one experience," Gerald 
 answered gravely, yet with a hint of suppressed 
 passion in his voice. "It is very recent. 
 Some day I may tell you all about it." 
 
 She moved away from him and drew her furs 
 closer about her with a little shiver. 
 
 " Don't you think we had better go indoors," 
 she said. " Surely it is growing colder." 
 
 The bright vivacity of her manner had 
 vanished and Gerald felt the chill of the change 
 more than the nip of the frosty air. But he 
 persevered. 
 
 "Oh, don't go in yet. You can't be cold, 
 wrapped up like that." 
 
 She was a creature of moods, many and 
 varied. 
 
 " It is a perfect moon," she said, and her tone 
 had changed again. " I'm enjoying the even- 
 ing, I confess. Sometimes everything seems 
 perfect, and presently again nothing pleases me. 
 And they are the self same things, too. Atmos- 
 pheric, I suppose. 
 
 " ' I feel that I am happy, that for me 
 A livelier emerald sparkles in the grass, 
 A purer sapphire melts into the sea, 1 ' 
 quoted Gerald. " After all, there's no sky like 
 the sky above one's old home. How I shall 
 miss it all." 
 
 " Are you leaving us then?" she asked, and 
 Kc listened for a note of regret in her tone, but 
 could not detect it. She spoke gravely, however. 
 130
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Yes," I must return to San Francisco very 
 soon," he replied after a pause. 
 
 " I wonder will you remember this evening 
 when you are in California again," she said. 
 " That sky, I mean, and the woods, and the 
 beautiful frosty air." 
 
 " I shall never forget this evening," he replied 
 earnestly. " It will be one of my cherished 
 memories." 
 
 She took alarm again. 
 
 " I wonder if you will," she said, speaking 
 quite lightly. " It will be an effort of memory 
 if you do. You don't have frost in San 
 Francisco, do you?" 
 
 " I have never seen any," he answered, 
 speaking steadily. 
 
 " Well, if you won't come in, I must," and 
 she ran up the steps. "I'm a pretty hostess. 
 Everyone is in before me. Fortunately there 
 is always Mrs. Purvis." She stood on the top 
 step and looked down at him. " Aren't you 
 coming? Tea's in this long time, you know." 
 
 " Thanks, he answered stiffly, " I'll be in 
 directly." 
 
 " And I have had such a happy, happy day," 
 she said softly. " I shall remember it better 
 than you will for I shall have the trees and the 
 pond and the dear old Priory before me still 
 when your scene has changed." 
 
 Gerald fancied he caught a touch of wistful- 
 ness in her voice and stepped impulsively for- 
 ward, but she had vanished into the house. He 
 stopped, biting his lip. 
 
 "She's not for me," he mused. "What a 
 131
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 woman she is ! Never five minutes in the same 
 mood. Sometimes I think she cares for me, 
 but at a hint she turns to ice. Why is she so 
 monstrously rich? I declare I hate her money 
 as much as she does. She'll never let any man 
 woo her and, for one, I shall never muster up 
 courage to try." 
 
 He came slowly up the steps, pausing to 
 glance in at the lighted room where Kate stood. 
 She had thrown her furs on a chair and was 
 bending over the tea equipage, laughing 
 brightly, and apparently offering gay apologies 
 for her tardy arrival. 
 
 " And yet I love her," he said to himself, 
 " and if I thought she'd believe me, faith I 
 think I'd dare to tell her so." 
 
 And he followed her in to tea. 
 
 137
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 A DINNER PARTY AT LISCARRICK. 
 
 OLD LARRY was jubilant as he superintended 
 the delivery of several dozen bottles of Irish 
 whiskey bearing the well known label of the 
 Shamrock Blend; also a barrel of porter and 
 many other good things. As he signed the 
 railway receipt and feasted his eyes on the 
 goodly show they made ranged in the stone 
 passage, he felt that the old days had come back 
 again to Liscarrick at last. 
 
 Mrs. Kilkelly, too, was very busy and 
 important. The credit of the house depended 
 on her, and she determined to maintain it 
 worthily. For, to use her own words, " ' Miss 
 Molly had no more interest nor an unhatched 
 gosling in what came or what went, since she 
 tuk to courtin.' ' 
 
 So Mrs. Kilkelly summoned her staff around 
 her and marshalled them with all the skill of 
 which she was mistress, for this was the day of 
 Gerald's tenants' ball. 
 
 Judy, a pretty girl, whose chronic toothache 
 seemed to be in abeyance for this occasion at 
 least, was the first to feel the rigour of the old 
 woman's tongue. 
 
 "Is it go out? Go out this day! Well, I 
 like yer impidence. Sorra fut ye stir out if all 
 the world was waitin' for ye. Everything to 
 do an' not a soul but meself to do it." 
 133
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Poor Judy humbly represented that this was 
 her 'afternoon out,' secured to her by solemn 
 treaty and immemorial usage, but the old lady 
 was adamant. 
 
 " Afternoon out or afternoon in, it's here ye'll 
 stick an' do yer work. Troth, when I was yer 
 age, its ashamed I'd be to go gallivantin' after 
 any bachelor. Troth an' I would." 
 
 "I'm afther no bachelor," retorted Judy 
 hotly, stung to rebellion by this taunt, " but its 
 a poor case if a poor girl can't go to the chapel to 
 her duties without havin' the likes of that said to 
 her." 
 
 "Yer duties!" echoed Mrs Kilkelly, with 
 withering scorn. "Yer duties! Its mighty 
 religious ye're gettin' all of a sudden! 
 Chapel indeed. It's a chapel with chimneys on 
 it, I'm thinkin.' Lave me way now; I've no 
 time to be listen in' to you. Away wid ye, Judy 
 Duggan, yerself an' Maggie, an' don't lave a 
 speck of dust in dinin' room nor hall; an' sure 
 ye're losing nothing stayin' in. He'll be here 
 himself to-night, an' ye can dance rings round 
 the pair of ye. Away wid yez now." 
 
 And having carried her point, as she usually 
 did, the old lady heaved a sigh and looked 
 round for fresh worlds to conquer. 
 
 Larry was the next to attract her notice 
 Larry scurrying from room to room in. quest of 
 the plate basket which he had laid down some- 
 where to superintend the unloading of the 
 drinkables and could find nowhere. 
 
 " Arrah, man," she began, " what ails ye at 
 all, running round like a chicken with its head
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 cut off. Can't ye find anything to do." 
 
 " Ah will ye not be botherin' me," snapped 
 Larry, as irritable as most people are when they 
 have unaccountably mislaid an article they 
 need. " Its not anything to do I'm lookin' 
 for. It's the plate basket." 
 
 "Glory be! Have ye lost that? Ye un- 
 fortunate kithogue, an' the quality comin' to 
 dinner." 
 
 " Don't I know it?" cried Larry in despera- 
 tion, "and this is the day of all days I'd take 
 to lose that misforthinate basket. Ye'd b 
 betther helpin' me find it, ma'am, than hinderin' 
 me this way." 
 
 "Who's hinderin' ye," retorted Mrs. Kil- 
 kelly, angrily. She spied the object of Larry's 
 search under the scullery table and drew it out 
 "Here's yer basket, sittin' foreninst yer nose 
 an' not a word out of it. If it was much 
 nearer ye it'd bite ye, ye misforthinate bothered 
 ould bat." 
 
 The butler's irritation passed away like 
 breath from a mirror. He seized his treasure 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Ah then, thank ye kindly, ma'am. Its 
 yerself has the quick eye. Nothen' passes ye." 
 But Mrs. Kilkelly had by no means done 
 with him yet, and proceeded to justify her 
 reputation for acumen in a manner less welcome 
 to Larry. Setting her arms akimbo she stared 
 at him for a full minute, and then, approach- 
 ing her face to his, exclaimed : 
 
 " I seen it. I smell it off ye. What a day 
 ye must take to go an' get drunk." 
 us
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "I'm not drunk," protested the badgered 
 butler. "Tare an' ages, woman, that tongue 
 of yours wouldn't lave a bit of skin on a man's 
 character the size of a bee's knee." 
 
 "Don't I tell ye J. smell it off ye," she 
 persisted. 
 
 " I'm not denyin' I had a drop. Sure it'd 
 be a poor thing if I wouldn't drink Master 
 Gerald's health a day like this, an' it afther 
 comin' in, six dozen bottles of it." 
 
 " If ye're drunk this night, an' you waitin' 
 
 at table " began the old lady impressively, 
 
 but Larry cut her short. 
 
 " Ah! don't be annoyin' me, listenin' to ye," 
 he shouted, and ambled off with his burden, 
 leaving Mrs. Kilkelly mistress of the field. 
 
 The evening opened with little promise of 
 enjoyment. Dinner passed off quietly, almost 
 gloomily, though it was long since so large a 
 party had met at Liscarrick. It had been 
 Gerald's intention to ask O'Hara only, but Kate 
 Fetherstone had written to Mrs. Delaney 
 begging dinner also for herself and Mrs. Purvis. 
 
 The latter lady, an Englishwoman, had lived 
 at the Priory for several years, but was as far 
 as ever from growing accustomed to the Irish 
 character and Irish ways. She could not under- 
 stand them; even Bob was beyond her, Molly 
 was an enigma, and as for O'Hara, he simply 
 bewildered her. She sat in stony silence 
 throughout the meal, answering in monosyllables 
 when spoken to, and, as Jack W T halen afterwards 
 remarked " never opening her mouth except to 
 put a bit into it." 
 
 136
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Mrs. Delaney was nervous and uncomfort- 
 able, and occupied herself in sending deprecatory 
 glances, first in the direction of her brother-in- 
 law, then in that of her affianced. She felt as 
 a timid lion tamer might feel if placed between 
 two beasts whose temper she thoroughly mis- 
 trusted. 
 
 Molly was utterly miserable. She experienced 
 a physical repulsion in O'Hara's presence which 
 she took no pains to conceal. Even O'Hara 
 himself, though quite unconscious of. having 
 overstepped the limits of playful gallantry in his 
 passages with Molly, felt ill at ease in surround- 
 ings too refined to be wholly congenial to him. 
 One of his eyes, too, was in that parti-coloured 
 transition state through which a severe bruise 
 passes before it disappears; and though this 
 was ostensibly attributed to the foot of the 
 bullock and commiserated accordingly, the 
 squireen was well aware that there was one in 
 company, and he doubted there might be others, 
 who knew better. 
 
 After the ladies had withdrawn things 
 brightened. O'Hara, who frankly confessed 
 that he was two or three glasses under the mark, 
 began to mellow in the sunshine of the swiftly 
 passing decanters. Both Gerald and Bob 
 exerted themselves to be agreeable, while Jack 
 gave himself up to unrestrained enjoyment, look- 
 ing forward to an evening's gaiety of a kind 
 quite new to his experience. 
 
 " About this hour," remarked O'Hara, " I 
 most generally do quit cowld wather. I find 
 that the contents of a kettle, wid a sprig of 
 137
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 lemon, brings out the flavour betther." 
 
 "Hear, hear!" cheered Gerald. "Bob, ring 
 the bell and have in the materials." 
 
 " An' while we're waitin' for them, there's a 
 deal of vartue in a small drop just as nature 
 made it," continued the Squireen, pouring out 
 and tossing off a wineglassful of the neat spirit. 
 
 " We may as well have some more whiskey 
 while we're about it," Bob remarked. "This 
 decanter's not much use to anybody." 
 
 " Ye're right, it isn't," said O'Hara. " I've 
 no use at all for a decanter: I'd rather have my 
 whack out of the bottle they make it in. I 
 don't like yer decanters. They're mane things. 
 It's like measurin' the dose." 
 
 "Some decanters hold more than bottles," 
 remarked Jack. 
 
 " Not when I've done wid them," rejoined 
 Mat, with an elaborate wink, which seemed to 
 play among the greens and yellows of his 
 injured eye with an effect so comical that the 
 others lay back in their chairs and actually yelled 
 with laughter. Mat, convinced that he had said 
 something very good, laughed too. 
 
 Jack was the first to recover. 
 
 " Don't overegg the pudding, old man," he 
 whispered to Gerald, eyeing O'Hara. 
 
 11 Never fear," replied his friend in the same 
 tone. " He's a seasoned vessel." 
 
 "What are you two connubiatin' about?" 
 cried the Squireen. 
 
 "Jack here is proposing to join the ladies, 
 but surely it's not come to that yet," replied 
 Gerald. 
 
 138
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Don't mind him. Sure he's in love! Not 
 but what I'm in love myself," O'Hara con- 
 tinued, recollecting himself and regarding 
 Whalen fiercely; " as much in love as ever ye'll 
 dar to be; but we're in no hurry for the ladies. 
 The materials is ordered." 
 
 "We've heaps of time," remarked Bob. 
 "Heaps! Ye're right, me boy. But I'm 
 always ready to drink any lady's health, present 
 or absent," Mat continued, filling his glass, 
 " Here's to the brightest eyes in Liscarrick an' 
 every one can think of them shining in the 
 head he likes best." 
 
 He drained his glass, and the others, rising 
 to honour the toast, had much ado to restrain 
 their laughter, so ill did the man's sentimental 
 expression match his discoloured optic. But 
 he noticed nothing. 
 
 " Lovely eyes never yet quenched the flow of 
 good liquor," he concluded, setting down his 
 empty glass. 
 
 " This lovely frost has effectually quelled the 
 flow of hunting," observed Gerald. " Over a 
 week of it now and no sign of a thaw. One 
 might as well be in Canada." 
 
 "I'm finding it next to impossible to keep 
 Liscarrick in proper exercise," remarked Bob. 
 " The colt is getting beyond himself." 
 
 " I always towld ye ye were playin' the divil 
 wid that little harse," said O'Hara spitefully. 
 " Ye'll have him as thick as a bullock afore the 
 spring." 
 
 " Well, I'd like to know how you're going to 
 exercise him this weather," cried Bob, taking 
 139
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 fire at once. " Maybe you'd have him out, frost 
 or no frost." 
 
 " Ye ought to have a tan gallop laid down for 
 him," retorted the other. 
 
 " Perhaps you'd like to pay for it," snapped 
 Bob. 
 
 " Faix, I've ped all I want to over that harse 
 already." 
 
 " You'll get your money," said Bob hotly. 
 
 " I'll go bail I will an' no thanks to you 
 neither," retorted the Squireen. 
 
 " Eo'u, Bob," remonstrated his uncle, laying 
 his hand on the young fellow's arm and giving 
 it a significant squeeze; "what a topic to start 
 after dinner. I'm ashamed of you." 
 
 " O'Hara knows his money is perfectly safe," 
 answered Bob, calming down at once as he 
 remembered the role he was expected to play. 
 "There isn't a faster horse in Ireland." 
 
 " Begob, then, I wish you'd sent him for the 
 whiskey," said Mat quizzically, "for ould 
 Larry is mortal slow." 
 
 At this moment the butler entered with the 
 " materials," and harmony was restored. 
 
 140
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE TENANTS' BALL. 
 
 THERE was little time for conversation when 
 the gentlemen entered the drawing room, for 
 fiddles were already scraping and the drone of 
 the pipes, like the subdued hum of many bees, 
 floated in from the hall. 
 
 It was a bright scene. The big chandelier 
 was lighted and shed the soft radiance of scores 
 of wax candles on the groups of merrymakers 
 the women attired in all their finery, gay 
 colours prevailing, the men mostly wearing the 
 picturesque costume of the Irish peasantry. 
 
 The dark oak of the old hall was handsomely 
 relieved by the decorations of the season. Ivy 
 and glistening holly leaves, picked out with 
 clusters of their own scarlet berries, nestled 
 around the ancestral portraits or twined lovingly 
 in and out of the balustrades of the great stair- 
 case. At the upper end sat the musicians two 
 fiddlers and a piper and refreshment tables had 
 been spread with a liberal hand in the porch as 
 well as in the dining room. Certainly Gerald 
 had done the thing well. 
 
 A ringing cheer greeted the entrance of the 
 house party, and the festivities were soon in full 
 swing. 
 
 A quadrille, more or less a set function, in- 
 augurated the proceedings. Gerald opened th 
 141
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 ball with Mrs. Kilkelly; Mat O'Hara led out 
 Mrs. Delaney. Though his gestures were free 
 and his tongue glib, the jealous eyes that 
 watched him could detect no unsteadiness in his 
 movements. 
 
 Old Larry's bashful invitation to Miss Fether- 
 stone met with a frank and ready response, but 
 Bishop's grave request for the honour of Mrs. 
 Purvis's hand for the quadrille, was repulsed 
 with a stony stare and an unqualified negative. 
 Molly danced with Nolan, and Bob selected as 
 his partner the pretty French maid from the 
 Priory. 
 
 But the quadrille was only an appetiser for 
 the more highly seasoned dishes to follow. 
 Reels and jigs rapidly succeeded each other ; all 
 was romp and gaiety and good fellowship. A 
 strong dance, in which each couple sought to 
 wear down the others had ended, after nearly 
 half an hour's strenuous competition, in a com- 
 plete triumph for Judy and her rustic swain. 
 Now the participants, exhausted for the moment, 
 sank breathless on the benches or leaned against 
 the walls. 
 
 Gerald, who with most of the house party 
 occupied a position on the stairs, observed this 
 and set himself to devise a new pastime for his 
 guests. 
 
 " I'll get Doherty, the piper, to sing us a 
 song," he said. "That will give them time to 
 get their second wind." 
 
 As he passed down the hall, he directed the 
 attention of sundry stragglers to the porch, 
 whither a strong tide of thirsty souls was already 
 142
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 setting. Glancing into the dining room, he 
 noticed O'Hara busy with the refreshments 
 there. He had missed him soon after the 
 quadrille, and the flushed face and loud tones 
 of the Squireen, as he talked and drank amid a 
 small group of farmers, told their own story. 
 Gerald's only fear was that he would remain in 
 the dining room till the ladies had retired and 
 so escape Emmie's notice altogether. 
 
 Revolving various schemes for drawing Mat 
 from his lair, and yet loath to disturb him till 
 he was, as one might say, fully ripe, he reached 
 the Piper and preferred his request. 
 
 " A song, Masther Gerald," answered the man 
 of the chaunters, who sat, one arm embracing 
 his pipes while the other toyed with a frothing 
 pot of porter. "Deed an' ye desarve it, sir. 
 If I was lark an' nightingale in one I'd sing to 
 ye day an' night. What sort of a song would 
 ye be choosing now?" 
 
 Gerald glanced up the hall to where Kate 
 stood half way up the stairs a tall, graceful 
 figure in a shimmering robe of some black 
 material from which her snowy neck and arms 
 shone out the whiter by contrast. He turned 
 to Doherty. 
 
 " Have you such a thing as a song about a 
 fool who loved a girl so much that he was afraid 
 to tell her so?" 
 
 " Deed, an' I have, sir." 
 "Sing it then," And Gerald feasted his 
 eyes from a distance, while the Piper, after a 
 few preliminary flourishes on his instrument, 
 passed into a plaintive old Irish air and sang, 
 M3
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 tunefully enough, in a quavering high tenor: 
 
 "There's a decent little shebeen at the foot 
 
 of the boreen, 
 
 An' its lucky that my holding lies so near; 
 
 It isn't altogether on account of the potheen 
 
 Nor by reason of the porter an' the beer. 
 
 ' Tis because of a young colleen that fills up 
 
 the glasses there 
 
 Boys dear, but its herself is pure an' sweet ; 
 With the white dawn on her forehead and the 
 
 midnight in her hair, 
 An' as light as a young colt upon her feet." 
 
 II. 
 
 Her spakin' voice is sweeter than another 
 
 woman sings, 
 
 An' her blush is like the bud upon the briar, 
 She gives a taste like honey to the liquor that 
 
 she brings, 
 
 An' the eyes of her would set a man afire. 
 She's kinder than the angels that come some- 
 times in my dreams, 
 
 She's fairer than the sunset on the snow. 
 I've never dared to ask her never asked her, 
 
 for it seems 
 I couldn't live at all if she said ' No.' " 
 
 " Thank you, Doherty," Gerald said when 
 the applause that followed the song had died out. 
 " You'll never want a set of pipes while you've 
 that in your throat. Why your pewter's empty. 
 Somebody fetch Doherty another pot of porter." 
 
 As he turned away he added. " Give them 
 M4
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Sir Roger; the ladies have had about enough 
 of it, I fancy. You can have the Cushion 
 Dance after they go." 
 
 Kate was full of the song when Gerald 
 rejoined her. 
 
 "What a charming old air! And the words 
 have a pretty fancy. They're not a bit natural, 
 though. I can't imagine a man loving a girl 
 like that and not daring to tell her so. Can 
 you ?" 
 
 " I can, quite," Gerald answered shortly. 
 Why did she lead him on in this way and then 
 turn cold directly her invitation was accepted?" 
 
 " Oh, well, men know best, I suppose," she 
 said lightly. " I'm sure, if I wanted anything 
 as much as all that I shouldn't be afraid to 
 ask for it." 
 
 Gerald turned suddenly, hot words on his 
 lips, but the situation was all against him. 
 Molly and Jack, close beside him, might have 
 been a hundred miles away for all the attention 
 they paid him, or any one but themselves, and 
 Mrs. Delaney was wistfully scanning the mov- 
 ing throng below in search of her Mat; but 
 Mrs. Purvis, a step or two higher up, kept her 
 eyes on his face. 
 
 " Besides," Kate went on as he remained 
 silent, " she was a barmaid or something of the 
 kind, I gathered the girl in the song, I mean. 
 In the whiskey trade like myself," she added 
 bitterly. " I don't see that the lover need have 
 been so punctilious." 
 
 Oh, to be alone with her for five minutes 
 while this mood was on her ! He glanced at 
 MS 
 
 K
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Mrs. Purvis, who was watching them unwink- 
 ing, and replied, 
 
 "I don't think he was over punctilious. 
 Merely in love, and sensitively alive to his own 
 demerits, as all similarly afflicted are." 
 
 "There's Sir Roger," cried Molly suddenly. 
 "They'll have the Cushion Dance after this. 
 Uncle Gerald, mayn't we wait and see it?" 
 
 " Better not, dear. It isn't usual," he 
 answered. 
 
 "Why not?" asked Kate, her curiosity all 
 aflame as she sniffed a faint odour of forbidden 
 fruit. 
 
 " It's not considered etiquette, dear, for ladies 
 to wait for," explained Mrs. Delaney. " You 
 see its a kind of carnival when ordinary rules 
 are relaxed." 
 
 " It's simply a country frolic," explained 
 Gerald. "The band plays 'The White 
 Cockade,' or some such rubbish, and a man 
 goes round with a cushion and lays it at the feet 
 of his chosen one, and kneels on it. She is 
 supposed to drop on her knees, too, and he 
 kisses her. Then she takes the cushion and 
 makes her own selection among the men, and 
 so on ad infinitum. It's a sort of Irish version 
 of kiss-in-the-ring." 
 
 "Oh, but it sounds charming," cried 
 Kate. " I certainly shan't go till I have seen 
 it." 
 
 "Quite right, Kate," approved Molly. 
 " They always hunt the ladies away before it 
 begins. I've never seen it, but its the biggest 
 fun of it all, I know." 
 
 146
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Why do they hunt the ladies away?" asked 
 Kate, turning to Gerald. 
 
 " Well, you see," he replied awkwardly, "if 
 you're here you're supposed to be taking part 
 in the dance, just as you did in the quadrilles, 
 you know. And if someone were to lay the 
 
 cushion at your feet ' 
 
 " I should get kissed, I suppose. What 
 fun!" interrupted she. 
 
 " No," said he gravely, " that happens when 
 you lay the cushion at someone else's feet. In 
 the former case you have to kiss." 
 
 " Gerald dear, how can you ?" cried his sister- 
 in-law reprovingly. Mrs. Purvis's face was set 
 in a mask of horror. Kate was laughing. 
 
 "What about the men?" she asked. 
 " Aren't they afraid of being kissed?" 
 
 " Men don't mind that sort of thing so much," 
 explained Mrs. Delaney. 
 
 " Ah, men have many privileges," Kate re- 
 marked, counterfeiting a sigh, " it must be nice 
 to be a man." 
 
 At this provocation Mrs. Purvis found her 
 voice. 
 
 "Kate, dear! ! ! ! " 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Purvis," replied, in impish 
 mood, the lady so adjured, " you know you'd 
 like it yourself." 
 
 A faint scream was the only possible reply tb 
 this monstrous insinuation, and Mrs. Purvis 
 made it. 
 
 " So you think, Mrs. Delaney, men don't 
 mind being kissed?" continued the irrepresssible 
 Kate. 
 
 M7
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " I suppose not, dear," replied the widow. 
 
 " And you, Mr. Delaney. Is it chivalrous of 
 you to shelter behind us poor women. Down 
 with you and defend the stair. But wait. Tell 
 me Do you hope to preserve your virgin 
 cheek?" 
 
 "I'm afraid not. You know I am supposed 
 to be the host to-night. I shall be expected to 
 open the proceedings," he replied. 
 
 " And is it one of the host's duties to kiss the 
 girls? I can imagine you quite proficient. Well 
 I suppose we had better go, we poor women. The 
 spectacle might be too much for weak nerves." 
 
 " If you really wish to wait, Miss Feather- 
 stone," said Gerald, who, in truth, did not know 
 how to take her, " keep on the stairs here and 
 everyone will understand you are not dancing. 
 You will see it all, and its all very innocent." 
 
 And he ran down the hall. 
 
 " Oh, do stay, Kate, and then I can too," 
 pleaded Molly. 
 
 "You will, of course, please yourself, dear," 
 said Mrs. Purvis, stiffly. " Personally, I think I 
 should prefer to withdraw." 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Purvis, with ordinary precaution, 
 and if you will promise to discard that too fas- 
 cinating smile, I will undertake to ensure your 
 safety. Just two steps higher, please, and be- 
 hind me." 
 
 " There's ' The White Cockade,' " cried Jack, 
 "and there's Gerald with his cushion. Now 
 look out. The fun's going to commence."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 THE CUSHION DANCE. 
 
 THE centre of the hall was clear, and the dancers 
 were ranged along the sides, in some places 
 thinly, at others in denser groups, where some 
 maiden, in real or affected coyness, had drawn 
 into the background, using her fellows as a 
 screen. There was much pushing forward and 
 pulling back, and a ripple of giggles rising and 
 falling, and at times almost drowning the music. 
 Down the whole length of the great hall stalked 
 Gerald, serene and unsmiling , cushion in hand, 
 a modern Paris weighing well his judgment ere 
 he bestowed the apple. 
 
 Tense interest enthralled the little group on the 
 stairs as it watched. Molly struck a discordant 
 note when she exclaimed : 
 
 " I declare if he hasn't got one of the best 
 drawing room cushions. Isn't he extravagant." 
 
 " Never mind the cushion," Kate said im- 
 patiently. " I'm dying to see what he'll do with 
 it. There are any amount of pretty girls to 
 choose from. Oh," she cried. " His old nurse ! 
 I call that a swindle." 
 
 For Gerald had deposited the cushion at Mrs. 
 Kilkelly's feet and dropped on his knees. 
 
 But though she affected to be disappointed at 
 Gerald's choice, Kate's interest did not wane. 
 She clapped her hands and laughed aloud when 
 the old nurse selected the Priory butler for her 
 partner. 
 
 '-' She's chosen Bishop," she cried. " Now I 
 140
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 wonder how he'll manage. If he goes down on 
 his knees he'll never be able to get up. Isn't he 
 a pompous old dear. Now its his turn. I'm 
 dying to see what he'll do. Oh, look 1 Trust 
 Bishop. He has taste." 
 
 For Bishop had dropped his cushion before 
 Peggy Rafferty, probably the prettiest girl in the 
 room, and subsided, with some difficulty, at her 
 feet. 
 
 "Hospitality to the foreigner," remarked 
 Jack, critically inspecting the embrace which 
 rewarded the butler. " I've a good mind to go 
 down and try my luck." 
 
 " Do," said Molly mischievously, " let us both 
 go. I'll show you the way." 
 
 Jack stayed where he was. 
 
 The fun below waxed fast and furious. The 
 presence of the house party, which at first had 
 operated as a check on the more boisterous 
 elements, was quite forgotten, and though the 
 rules of the game were strictly observed, knots of 
 boys and girls, laughing and cheering, sur- 
 rounded each couple as they embraced, insisting 
 that the forfeit should be honestly paid and per- 
 mitting no shirking. The party on the stairs, 
 which had been rejoined by Gerald, was weary 
 with laughter, provoked every moment by some 
 new incident below, and Kate was beginning to 
 lend a more favourable ear to the repeated hints 
 of Mrs. Purvis that it was " surely time to order 
 the carriage, dear," when a sudden shout from 
 the lower part of the hall arrested everyone's 
 attention. 
 
 a * Hurroo for the luck of the O'Hara's ! A 
 150
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 cushion dance, begorrah ! I'm in it up to me 
 neck." 
 
 The Squireen was standing in the doorway of 
 the dining room, swaying on his feet, flushed, 
 loutish, all the animal beauty of his face 
 quenched in liquor drunk and unashamed ! 
 
 Mrs. Delaney drew back from the balustrade. 
 Then she pressed forward again as if unable to 
 take her eyes off him. Larry chanced to be 
 passing below. She leaned down and spoke to 
 him. 
 
 " What's the matter with Mr. O'Hara, Larry? 
 Is he ill?" 
 
 " Sorra taste, ma'am. Only drunk," replied 
 the matter of fact servant. 
 
 Mrs. Delaney turned very pale, but she still 
 kept her eyes on the scene below as if it possessed 
 some horrible fascination for her. The others 
 watched her in silence. 
 
 O'Hara lurched forward. The dance had 
 stopped abruptly as everyone turned, startled by 
 his shout. The cushion lay where the last holder 
 had dropped it, and he stumbled over it, almost 
 pitching on his head. Recovering himself, he 
 grabbed it up and stood looking round him with 
 swimming, bloodshot eyes. 
 
 "Three cheers for ould Ireland!" he 
 screamed. " Play it up, Piper." 
 
 He staggered forward a few steps still holding 
 the cushion. " Where the blazes are all the 
 pretty girls? Oh, here's one." 
 
 He flopped down on his knees before Judy 
 Duggan, and seizing her by the waist tried to 
 pull her down to him. She screamed and strug-
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 gled, and O'Hara, losing his balance rolled over 
 on his side dragging the girl to the ground. 
 
 Ominous murmurs arose from the hall. " For 
 shame !" " That's no fair dancing," and the like. 
 
 "This will never do," cried Gerald, and 
 dashed down the stairs. 
 
 " I'll have me kiss," insisted the Squireen 
 thickly. " It's my cushion." 
 
 There was an unseemly struggle on the floor, 
 but before Gerald, closely followed by Bob, 
 could reach the spot, O'Hara had been dragged 
 clear by a stalwart young labourer, Judy's in- 
 tended, and the girl, flushed and dishevelled, 
 helped to her feet. 
 
 Mrs. Delaney, white as paper, sank on the 
 steps, where she sat, pressing her hand to her 
 side. 
 
 "Mamma, dear, what's the matter?" cried 
 her daughter. "Are you ill?" 
 
 " Sick at heart, Molly. Take me away. Oh, 
 take me away." 
 
 " Loathsome beast," muttered Molly, and she 
 assisted her mother upstairs. 
 
 The others exchanged glances of consternation. 
 
 " I really think it is high time we went home," 
 said Mrs. Purvis at last. 
 
 " I quite agree with you," assented Kate. 
 "Jack, you might order the carriage." 
 
 All the brightness had gone out of the evening 
 for her. She addressed her maid, who, terrified 
 by the scene below, had crept up a few steps. 
 
 " We are going, Celeste, get our wraps, 
 please," and the three women went up together. 
 The stairway was deserted. 
 152
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Meanwhile, O'Hara lay on his back, speech- 
 less and motionless, but grinning feebly, the 
 centre of a group of curious rustics. 
 
 " Get him away, Bob, to bed or anywhere you 
 like out of sight," said Gerald hurriedly. 
 
 Judging by his own feelings he did not believe 
 that Emmie, or any other woman, could have 
 looked without repulsion at the Squireen as he 
 lay. He felt his plot had succeeded, but he 
 revolted at its consummation. 
 
 "Now friends," he began as he reached the 
 end of the hall, " don't you think we've all had 
 enough of this? " 
 
 " Ah, yer honour," said Larry, " they're only 
 just beginning to like it. Sure its only the 
 shank of the evening." 
 
 Gerald looked round helplessly. Bob was 
 struggling hard to get O'Hara on his feet. 
 Another man had seized the cushion and was 
 carrying it round. A word to the piper stopped 
 that. The music ceased, and the company 
 stood at gaze, waiting for whatever might happen 
 next, but showing no inclination to disperse. 
 Gerald sought Mrs. Kilkelly and whispered his 
 difficulty in her ear. 
 
 " Nurse, couldn't you give them a hint to 
 clear out. Nothing to hurt their feelings you 
 know. Just a gentle hint." 
 
 Mrs. Kilkelly had her own notion of a gentle 
 hint, and she proceeded to administer one. The 
 event showed that she knew her audience. 
 
 " Now, boys and girls," she said, raising her 
 voice. " Ye're here long enough, so just give 
 three cheers for the ladies and gentlemen, not 
 
 I S3
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 forgettin' Master Gerald who give yez this trate, 
 an' then away with yez. There's sherry wine in 
 the housekeeper's room for the ladies, an' lashins 
 and lavins of beer and porter for the men in the 
 kitchen. So, three cheers and away with yez 
 now." 
 
 "Thank you, nurse," said Gerald, after he 
 had acknowledged the noisy ovation, " that's 
 just what I wanted. A gentle hint, and you 
 gave it them." 
 
 By this time Bob, with some assistance, had 
 succeeded in getting O'Hara into the library, 
 where, having settled the now comatose gentle- 
 man on the sofa, with a rug and a pillow, he left 
 him to sleep off his potations. 
 
 Meanwhile Molly had accompanied her 
 mother to her room and remained with her while 
 she undressed. The girl was very tender- 
 hearted, and Mrs. Delaney's penitent mood 
 touched her deeply, but she was careful not to 
 show overmuch sympathy. 
 
 "I'll never see him again," wailed the poor 
 lady; " I couldn't let him come near me. Such 
 a disgrace such a public disgrace. Lying 
 drunk in my own hall and trying to kiss the 
 scullery maid." 
 
 " It's my belief he'd try to kiss the devil if you 
 put him in petticoats," observed Molly. 
 
 " Don't be irreverent, dear," corrected her 
 mother. "You are altogether too free in your 
 speech. I wonder was he mad ? " 
 
 " Mad drunk," replied the girl curtly. 
 
 " I'm afraid so. I've seen men drunk before. 
 154
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 I'll never marry a drunkard no, not if I end my 
 days single." 
 
 "I'm thankful you've decided not to marry 
 this one anyhow," answered Molly. 
 
 " Never marry a drunkard, whatever you do. 
 Mr. Whalen doesn't drink, I hope? " 
 
 " Of course he doesn't, Jack's a gentleman," 
 said her daughter indignantly. 
 
 "Ah, but my dear; gentlemen do drink 
 some of them. But I'll break this off. Write 
 to Mr. O'Hara in the morning no, I'll write 
 myself. And now, dear, I think I'll try to get a 
 little sleep. I feel very shaken. Kiss me good 
 night, Molly, and give my love to Mrs. Purvis 
 and Kate and beg them to excuse me. Tell them 
 I feel quite upset, and have gone to lie down. 
 And tell Larry I am never at home to Mr. 
 O'Hara at any time he calls. Good night, 
 dear." 
 
 Molly returned to the hall with the comfort- 
 able conviction that her mother's heart was un- 
 affected, however mortifying to her pride and 
 vanity the Squireen's conduct might have been. 
 
 She did not see Kate Fetherstone, who had 
 already gone, but she found her uncle and Jack 
 Whalen smoking, amid the debris of the decora- 
 tions, in the deserted hall. 
 
 "Well?" said Gerald. 
 
 " Well," she replied. " Mamma has gone to 
 bed in a very edifying frame of mind, and has 
 forbidden Mat O'Hara the house." 
 
 "Glory be! as Mrs. Kilkelly would say," 
 ejaculated Gerald fervently. 
 
 "Amen!" responded Molly; and then, 
 155
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 seeing the derelict cushion lying on the floor she 
 picked it up, like the careful housewife she was, 
 and carried it into the drawing room. 
 
 " Do you know that you took about the only 
 decent cushion in the house for your horrid 
 game? " she said. 
 
 " That was why I selected it, my dear. If you 
 want to do anything, do it as well as you can." 
 
 And Jack and Gerald resumed their cigars, 
 and Molly went to bed.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MR. O'HARA THREATENS AN ACTION FOR 
 BREACH. 
 
 IT was nearly a week after Gerald's " fandango," 
 the last day of the old year, in fact, that O'Hara, 
 burning for vengeance, entered Mr. McMaster's 
 office. The Squireen had called several times at 
 Liscarrick in the interval only to be repulsed on 
 each occasion with a curt " not at home " from 
 the delighted Larry. He had even forced his 
 way into the library, and there waited, fuming, 
 for an hour or more. But Mrs. Delaney had 
 locked herself in her room upstairs, and he saw 
 no one. 
 
 So, despairing of bringing the widow to a 
 parley by fair means, he determined to consult 
 the attorney with a view to ascertaining if the law 
 could be made to serve his purpose. 
 
 The joint note of Bob and Gerald fell due in 
 a few days, and McMaster naturally thought that 
 it was on this business his client had called. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. O'Hara," was the 
 attorney's formal greeting. " You have called in 
 reference to this Liscarrick business, I presume." 
 
 " Ye presume right," replied Mat, " I've been 
 badly trated, but them that thinks Mat O'Hara 
 is to be whistled up, and then sent to heel like a 
 damned dog, will find their mistake. I'll larn 
 them." 
 
 " But, my dear sir, the note has several days 
 157
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 to run, and there can be no manner of doubt 
 Mr. Gerald Delaney will meet it when due. You 
 have nothing to complain of." 
 
 " Nothing to complain of, ain't I," exploded 
 O'Hara, ' I've nothing in life agen Gerald 
 Delaney he trated me like a gentleman the 
 other night free spoken an' liberal, an' the 
 whiskey was ten years old if it was a day, an' 
 he seen me safe an' comfortable on the sofa afther 
 it, with a rug up to me chin." 
 
 McMaster smiled as he visualised the picture 
 thus presented. The Squireen was the only one 
 of his clients who occasionally tickled his faint 
 sense of humour. 
 
 " What the divil are ye grinnin' at?" snapped 
 Mat. ' It's no laughing matter, I tell ye now. 
 The day after the spree comes a note for me from 
 the widow Delaney. I'll read it ye in a minute. 
 Well, back an' forth, accordin' as I had the time, 
 I've been four times to the big house to see her, 
 an* that divil's imp, Larry, stands howldin' the 
 dure an' sayin' " not at home,' as if it plazed 
 him to say it. An' I knowin' all the time, as 
 well as if I seen her, that she was stuck in some 
 room within, maybe makin' faces at me from in 
 under the blind. I tell ye, Mac, I'm not goin' to 
 stand it." 
 
 " Have you and the lady quarrelled?" asked 
 the attorney, surprised. 
 
 " No! If I had would I be botherin' up to 
 see her four days in the week. Its herself has 
 turned rusty, the Lord knows why." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! The quarrels of lovers are the 
 renewal of love," quoted McMaster. 
 158
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 O'Hara fairly danced with rage. 
 
 " D'ye think she's the first woman I've 
 courted? D'ye think I don't know the ins and 
 outs of them by this time? Will ye get it 
 through yer thick head that she's strivin' to give 
 me the chuck? Here, read this," and he 
 snatched a letter from his pocket and threw it 
 across the desk to the attorney. 
 
 The latter adjusted his glasses and began to 
 read 
 
 " Liscarrick, December 27. Sir, " he com- 
 menced, but O'Hara interrupted him : 
 
 " That's how it begins. ' Sir !' An' a few days 
 ago I was her own darlin' Mat. I tell ye, Mac, 
 that unfeeling ' sir ' tore up me heart's emotions 
 like a harrow goin' over fresh plough. But 
 read it, read it." 
 
 The attorney resumed. 
 
 11 After the disgraceful exhibition you made of 
 yourself last night, to which I was a witness " 
 
 He could get no further, for the Squireen ex- 
 ploded again. 
 
 "Disgraceful exhibition! There it is. I 
 dunno what she's talkin' about. I may have 
 been a bit fresh I'm not denyin' it. It was 
 Christmas times, an' we were all there to be jolly 
 together. I declare to you, Mac, I never had 
 such an insult put upon me in my life. Dis- 
 graceful exhibition ! Is it one of Doolan's penny 
 peep shows she takes me for?" 
 
 " The lady evidently thinks you were intoxi- 
 cated," observed the lawyer. 
 
 "Intoxicated!" roared O'Hara, springing to 
 his feet. "I'd knock th teeth down the throat
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 of any man that would say the like. Begorra, 
 if she thinks I was intoxicated that night, I'd 
 like her to see me raal drunk. Sure, I hadn't 
 even a headache in the mornin' an' ate well on 
 to a pound of steak for me breakfast." 
 
 " Well, I only judge from her letter. If she 
 doesn't mean that, I can't see what her meaning 
 is." 
 
 " It was Judy Duggan done it; a well set-up 
 colleen enough. I was wrastling her for a kiss 
 in the cushion dance an* the two of us fell on 
 the flure leastways, that's what Tim Reilly tells 
 me, for I disremember it myself." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Delaney is jealous then?" queried 
 the lawyer, raising his eyebrows. 
 
 " It can't be anything else. Say I was drunk 
 itself, what of it ? It's a good man's case. Sure 
 any gentleman's liable to take a glass too much 
 to say nothen of the festive occasion. But the 
 widow's in bitter airnest. Read on ; read it all." 
 
 " I am told you never ceased filling your glass 
 the entire evening," resumed the lawyer, but 
 O'Hara broke in again 
 
 " I ax ye to notice that. What kind of hos- 
 pitality do ye call that counting a gentleman's 
 glasses in her own house? Begorra, afther that 
 I wouldn't marry her not if she went down on 
 her bended knees to me." He paused a moment, 
 and then added loftily : " I was under the impris- 
 sion that I was courtin' a lady." 
 
 Meanwhile McMaster, despairing of conclud- 
 ing if he continued to read aloud, had glanced 
 over the letter, and looking up as he reached the 
 end, said 
 
 160
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Well, she makes her meaning plain enough, 
 at any rate. She formally declares her engage- 
 ment to you at an end, and desires that 
 there may be no further communication be- 
 tween you." 
 
 " That's just it," replied Mat. " She acknow- 
 ledges the engagement and breaks it off all in 
 the one letter. That's why I brought it to you. 
 Sure, what better could we want?" 
 
 "What better?" repeated the attorney, 
 puzzled. " I fail to understand." 
 
 " Sure its a proof no jury could get over. Get 
 ready yer action for breach of promise. Lay the 
 damages high, for they niver give ye the half of 
 what ye ask, an' put that letter in your safe. Its 
 important." 
 
 The lawyer stared at him in amazement. 
 
 " Mr. O'Hara, you cannot be in earnest!" 
 
 " An' why not, I'd like to know?" 
 
 " To sue a lady for breach of promise. It is 
 an unheard of thing." 
 
 " Begorra, it was heard of many a time," said 
 the Squireen, truculently. " I heard of it to a 
 purty tune when that wench of Thady Finne- 
 gan's got eighty pounds out o' me, an' its yersilf 
 minds that case well, 'Torney McMaster, for by 
 the same token ye nearly ruined me with the costs 
 ye charged me. But its my turn now ; get it back 
 for me." 
 
 "That was a different thing altogether. But 
 for a gentleman to sue a lady for breach " 
 
 " Oh, begob, what's sauce for the goose is 
 sauce for the gander," interrupted Mat. 
 
 " Take my advice; go home and think it over 
 
 161 
 L
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 quietly," urged the attorney. " Here's your 
 letter." 
 
 " Put it in yer safe, I tell ye. Its important." 
 
 " Oh, well, if you wish," replied the other, 
 placing the document aside; "but be careful 
 what you do, or you'll make yourself the laugh- 
 ing stock of Ireland. You'll be having Gerald 
 Delaney's cheque for nearly seventeen hundred 
 one of these days, so you can consider that as 
 damages and salve your wounded heart with it." 
 
 O'Hara left the office very ill-satisfied, and 
 inveighing bitterly against the sex discrimina- 
 tion of British law as applied to cases of blighted 
 affection. 
 
 " What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the 
 gander, I was always towld," he muttered. 
 
 As he rode down the village street he noticed 
 that the wind had veered to the south. 
 
 -The frost's breaking up anyway," he 
 thought, and made his way homeward somewhat 
 comforted. 
 
 Just before he reached the turning that led to 
 Ballintubber he encountered Mr. Gerald Delaney 
 and Miss Kate Fetherstone riding very close to- 
 gether, while Nolan, the groom, maintained a 
 respectful distance in the rear. 
 
 "Them two's coortin," he mused, as he 
 saluted them. " How money marries money in 
 this world ! The like of it was never seen." 
 
 And, brooding on the many injustices of life, 
 O'Hara rode home to Ballintubber. 
 
 i6a
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A LOST OPPORTUNITY. 
 
 GERALD, too, had been tempted by the southerly 
 wind and the softening roads to give a little 
 exercise to some of the horses who had been 
 eating their heads off in the stables during the 
 rigour of the long frost. Riding out alone, he 
 had been lucky enough to meet Miss Fether- 
 stone, not far from Liscarrick gate, and intent on 
 a similar purpose. 
 
 He gladly accepted her invitation to turn his 
 horse's head, and the two started together for a 
 long country ramble, with Nolan as the sole 
 representative of Mrs. Grundy. 
 
 It was their first meeting since the evening of 
 the tenants' ball, and Kate was eager to learn if 
 Mrs. Delaney had remained firm in her resolu- 
 tion and had definitely banished O'Hara. On 
 this point Gerald's report was entirely favourable. 
 His sister-in-law fully realised that she had nar- 
 rowly escaped wrecking her life, and was deter- 
 mined to keep out of danger for the future. 
 O'Hara had been rigorously denied the house, 
 and Emmie had declared that she would rather 
 leave the country than see him again. 
 
 " In fact," Gerald said, "she has surprised 
 me by showing gleams of sense, and even reason 
 since the other night. She said to Molly of her 
 own accord that she would not be surprised if 
 she, Molly, had been right all the time, and that 
 163
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 it was really O'Hara who interfered with her on 
 the road that evening." 
 
 " And what said Molly? " asked Kate, much 
 interested. 
 
 "Oh, she laughed, and said she wouldn't be 
 surprised either, only how was his legend about 
 the bullocks to be explained away." 
 
 "Well," prompted Kate. 
 
 " That puzzled Emmie. She went away 
 reflecting, ' he certainly did have a black 
 eye.' " 
 
 They both laughed heartily at this, for Kate 
 had been made acquainted with all the details 
 of the incident the day after it happened. Then 
 the conversation turned to subjects of more 
 personal interest. 
 
 " When will you give us another skating 
 party on the Priory pond? " asked Gerald. 
 
 " The very next frost," she answered. " This 
 one is about over. There's a bone in the ground 
 still, but the surface is quite soft." 
 
 " Are you glad its gone ? " 
 
 " I don't know. There's the hunting and all 
 that to compensate one, but I loved the skating." 
 
 " So did I," said Gerald with rapturous 
 remembrance, " especially that first day. Shall. 
 I ever forget that evening ? " 
 
 "And that moon; wasn't it lovely?" She 
 flushed a little at the recollection. 
 
 " It was the crown and climax of my home- 
 coming," he cried. " Oh, Kate may I call you 
 Kate?" 
 
 "Why not?" she answered, demurely. 
 "Your niece and nephew do.' 
 164
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " Thank you, and will you remember, in your 
 turn, that I was christened Gerald? " 
 
 "That will be quite easy. We always speak 
 of you as Uncle Gerald." 
 
 "Oh, not that," he protested. " Don't be 
 cruel." 
 
 "Very well, but really 'uncle' is such a 
 respectable title. The only uncle I ever had was 
 Jack's father, and I never saw him that I know 
 of." 
 
 "I'm not the least ambitious to be your uncle, 
 Kate," he said; and forthwith tried to turn back 
 the conversation into the track he was deter- 
 mined it should follow. For he had made up 
 his mind to put his fate to the touch before he 
 left Ireland, and when could he hope to find a 
 more favourable opportunity ? 
 
 " We were talking of your skating party," he 
 said. 
 
 " Yes," she assented. " Aren't you sorry the 
 weather prevents our having another. But one 
 can't skate without ice, can one? To be sure 
 there are rollers. They are very popular in 
 America, I am told." 
 
 "Kate," he cried in desperation, "are you 
 ever serious? " 
 
 "Very often," she answered. "How would 
 you like a good brisk trot now ? It will be some 
 compensation for the lost ice party." 
 
 " I don't want a party," he said petulantly, 
 "and I don't want ice." 
 
 "Not for skating?" she asked, assuming a 
 very becoming air of surprise. 
 
 " It isn't the pond I recall with such pleasure,"
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 he continued, and there was more than a hint of 
 passion in his voice, " it is the terrace. Don't 
 you remember it all, Kate? The slow climb 
 home; the gathering dusk, the faint touch of 
 crimson in the sky past the house the the 
 things we talked of. And then the night with 
 its million stars, and the moon making lace out 
 of the shadows of the beech twigs at our very 
 feet. I felt so near you. My heart was very 
 full that night." 
 
 He paused, but she made no sign. She was 
 looking straight between her horse's ears, and 
 but for the quickened heave of her bosom and 
 that may have been his fancy he could not be 
 sure she had heard him. But he was resolved 
 that this day should end, for good or ill, the 
 suspense in which this strange girl held him. 
 He went ,on. 
 
 " Don't you understand me, Kate. Don't 
 you see why that evening was the climax of my 
 visit?" 
 
 She turned toward him at last. " I don't want 
 to understand you. I like you well, there, I 
 like you very much indeed. Don't spoil it. 
 Can't you leave us as we are ? " 
 
 " That's impossible," he said, decidedly. " It 
 must be all or nothing. Don't send me away. 
 Don't let me leave home as I left it before a 
 failure." 
 
 He had drawn close to her so close that his 
 knee almost touched the flap of her saddle. In 
 his earnestness he had laid his hand on her 
 horse's neck, waiting, breathless for her reply. 
 
 She touched Red Rover with the whip and 
 166
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 drew away from his side so suddenly that he 
 thought for a moment she had taken offence at 
 his words. But as he raised his head he saw 
 O'Hara riding towards them and saluting with 
 his crop as he passed. Mechanically, Gerald 
 returned the salute, and then, with a touch of 
 the spur, shot forward and resumed his place at 
 Kate's bridle. 
 
 " Confound that fellow," he muttered. " Is 
 he to cross me at every turn ? " 
 
 But try as he would, he could not win Katf 
 back to a serious vein. 
 
 167
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 GERALD DELANEY is CONFRONTED WITH HIS 
 SIGNATURE. 
 
 MOLLY'S wedding day had been fixed for the 
 first week in February a day or two before 
 Gerald's departure. He was to give the bride 
 away an office which Bob willingly surrendered. 
 Jack had obtained an extension of his holiday 
 sufficient for a brief honeymoon. 
 
 The bustle of preparation lent an unwonted 
 animation to the old house ; there were dress- 
 makers down from Dublin, and Molly was in 
 such constant demand for "fitting" that Jack 
 Whalen complained he never got a chance to 
 say more than "good morning" to her. 
 
 Kate gave the entire trousseau, and she gave 
 with a liberal hand. Molly, wno had never 
 owned, or indeed seen such frocks before, was 
 in a perpetual fever of excitement and delight. 
 Gerald, as each fresh parcel arrived, would shake 
 his head and pretend to commiserate with Jack. 
 
 " Ruin, black ruin, old chap," he would say. 
 " How many years' salary do you calculate it 
 will take to get this little lot through the New 
 York customs? " 
 
 Mrs. Delaney continued very subdued 
 throughout this busy time. She refused to go 
 outside the place indeed, she could scarcely be 
 induced to leave the house, lest she should 
 meet O'Hara. She often wept as she contem- 
 plated Molly's finery, but generally withdrew to 
 1 68
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 indulge her grief elsewhere, lest her tears might 
 spot the delicate fabrics. 
 
 Bob, meanwhile, was more interested in the 
 preparation of Liscarrick than he was in his 
 sister's approaching wedding. Now that the 
 weather had moderated he had the colt out 
 daily, and was endeavouring to arrange for his 
 reception at a famous training establishment in 
 Kildare, but this was a matter which demanded 
 ready money, and his pockets were empty. To 
 hints and supplications alike his uncle turned a 
 deaf ear, nor was he to be moved by all the 
 specious arguments the young fellow could 
 advance. Gerald was determined that the horse, 
 so far as his value would go, should be used to 
 redeem the note and for no other purpose. 
 
 This fast maturing note gave him an occa- 
 sional qualm, especially when the vision of it 
 came at night to his wakeful eyes, but Kate 
 Fetherstone's image just now so filled his mind 
 that he thought of little else, and, constitution- 
 ally careless as he was in money matters, let 
 things drift. 
 
 It was with a shock of very unpleasant sur- 
 prise that he received a formal notification from 
 the National Bank at Drine calling his attention 
 to his acceptance for sixteen hundred and forty- 
 eight pounds, some odd shillings and pence, and 
 requesting the deposit of funds to meet it. 
 
 This acted like a cold douche on his lovesick 
 brain, and braced him to instant energy. He 
 was quite conscious that he owed it to the con- 
 sideration of the local bank manager, who was 
 an old acquaintance, that this demand had not 
 169
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 taken the form of a notice of protest. He called 
 to Bob to fetch round the pony trap and hold 
 himself in readiness to drive into Drine, and 
 then, with bank book and cheque book before 
 him, went into an elaborate calculation of ways 
 and means. 
 
 The result was discouraging. He had some- 
 thing over 500 to his credit. By the sacrifice 
 of every penny he owned in the world, he could 
 not come within a thousand pounds of redeeming 
 his acceptance. And Bob, as he knew, had only 
 a few shillings. 
 
 Just as they were starting Molly came running 
 downstairs and begged for a seat. The great 
 work of the trousseau was paralysed for lack 
 of some trifling matter thread or braid or 
 buttons and she hoped that Rogers' emporium 
 at Drine might supply the deficiency. 
 
 Gerald alighted at the Bank, and directed Bob 
 to join him at McMaster's office after he had 
 dropped Molly at Rogers'. Bob felt very un- 
 comfortable, and tried to wriggle out of the 
 appointment. He knew his sins were on the 
 point of finding him out, and he had no wish 
 to be present at the discovery. But his uncle 
 was peremptory, and he was forced to submit. 
 
 The interview with the manager was as un- 
 satisfactory as it was brief. Mr. Allen was 
 much surprised at Gerald's exposition of the real 
 state of his finances. Like everyone else, the 
 bank officials had accepted common report, and 
 credited the Californian with wealth inexhaust- 
 ible, and as Gerald had kept a fair balance and 
 neither asked nor needed favours of any kind, 
 170
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 they had never had occasion to enquire into his 
 position. 
 
 Mr. Allen shook his head gravely when he 
 realised the situation. 
 
 " Mr. O'Hara is not altogether a pleasant 
 person to deal with, and as for Mr. McMaster 
 well, of course, he will act on his client's in- 
 structions, whatever they may be. I am very 
 sorry for you, Mr. Delaney ; very sorry indeed. 
 Perhaps the best thing is to do as you propose. 
 Go and see McMaster and try to come to some 
 arrangement. We don't close till three o'clock, 
 you have some hours before you." 
 
 " And if no arrangement can be come to in 
 that time," said Gerald, questioningly. 
 
 " The note will go to protest as a matter of 
 course," replied the other. 
 
 11 Thank you. I understand. Well, good 
 morning," and he crossed the street towards the 
 attorney's office, expecting to find his nephew 
 awaiting him in the doorway. 
 
 But there was no sign of Bob. 
 
 " Hang it, he hasn't given me the slip 1 
 hope," thought Gerald, and he returned to the 
 Bank on the chance that his nephew had mis- 
 understood his instructions and was awaiting 
 him there. As he crossed the street, a clatter 
 of hoofs, as of a horse furiously driven and very 
 close at hand, caused him to spring back on the 
 pavement. A pony trap swept by at full speed, 
 a girl driving. She was alone in the vehicle, 
 and was plying the whip and urging on the 
 pony as if she were bound on a life and death 
 errand. 
 
 171
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Why, it's Molly," ejaculated her uncle in 
 amazement. "What's come over the child? I 
 suppose she's got her hooks and eyes and counts 
 every minute lost till she has delivered them. I 
 wonder how she expects we are to get home. 
 Hoof it, I suppose," and here-entered the bank. 
 
 Bob had not been there. Seriously annoyed, 
 yet feeling he had no time to waste, Gerald again 
 sought the attorney's office, and there, in the 
 doorway, breathing hard as if from a sharp run, 
 and looking thoroughly sheepish and uncom- 
 fortable, stood his truant nephew. 
 
 "Where have you been?" enquired Gerald 
 crossly. " I've been looking for you every- 
 where." And without waiting for a reply he 
 went on. "What's the matter with Molly? I 
 saw her just now tearing down the street as if 
 the devil was after her." 
 
 " Molly," said Bob stupidly. " Are you sure 
 it was Molly?" 
 
 " Am I sure? She very nearly ran over me. 
 She was going at the rate of a fire engine, and 
 the trap swaying as if it would upset. We'll 
 have to walk home I expect, but there's plenty 
 to do first. A pretty mess you've landed us in 
 with your race horses. Come in. We've got 
 to have it out with McMaster." 
 
 And Bob, feeling smaller than he had ever 
 felt in his life before, followed his uncle into the 
 house. But before they reached the door of the 
 attorney's sanctum, he plucked Gerald by the 
 sleeve. 
 
 "Uncle," he faltered, " I I oh, wait a 
 minute, I want to speak to you before we go in." 
 173
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Gerald turned and faced round. 
 
 '"' Hurry up, then, old chap. I want to get 
 this thing over." 
 
 But Bob was in no condition to hurry. He 
 found it very hard to get out the necessary words 
 at all, but in the end he managed to convey to 
 his uncle some approximation to the truth. 
 When he came to the share certificates, Gerald 
 interrupted him. 
 
 " Let us have this clear. You stole them out 
 of my portmanteau? " 
 
 Bob hung his head. 
 
 "You're a credit, I must say. And you 
 pawned them off upon O'Hara as valuable 
 securities." 
 
 11 I'm awfully sorry. I never meant to. I 
 was only going to bounce about them. It was to 
 McMaster I showed them." 
 
 " And he's got them now? " 
 
 " Oh dear no," replied Bob glibly. " They're 
 all safe in your room at home. Oh Uncle, I am 
 sorry. I don't know what you must think of 
 me." 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you. I think you're an unmit- 
 igated young blackguard and ungrateful to boot. 
 I was ass enough to try to pull you out of a hole ; 
 you were mean enough to pull me in on the top 
 of you, having first made the hole immeasurably 
 deeper. How dare you tell these people that I 
 am a man of means when you know I'm no such 
 thing, and when I expressly forbade you to make 
 any kind of false pretences about me. False 
 pretences, indeed; I shouldn't wonder if Mc- 
 Master could jail you for this. In with you and 
 173
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 have it out with him," and Gerald knocked at 
 the door. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Delaney," said the 
 attorney as they entered. " I was just drafting 
 a letter to you on the subject of that note." 
 
 "That is what we have called about," replied 
 Gerald. 
 
 " Exactly, I thought there must be some mis- 
 take," said McMaster in his most urbane tones. 
 " Won't you be seated and you, too, Mr. 
 Robert. Quite so. I was astonished yesterday 
 when Mr. Allen informed me that there were 
 no funds to take up the acceptance. But I knew 
 it must be an oversight." 
 
 " I am sorry to say I am not in a position to 
 take it up," replied Gerald steadily, while Bob 
 writhed in his chair. "You have been misin- 
 formed as to my means and position, and I am 
 here to make the best offer in my power to give 
 you notes at such dates as we can agree upon 
 for ,1,200 and to pay you the balance in cash." 
 
 As Gerald spoke the attorney's mouth opened 
 wider and wider, and his eyebrows went up till 
 they almost touched his hair. For a moment he 
 could not speak, but leaned forward, his hands 
 on the arms of his chair, as if about to rise. 
 Then he sank back in his seat. 
 
 " That is a curious statement, Mr. Gerald 
 Delaney," he said at last. " If it is true, may I 
 ask with what object you have systematically 
 passed yourself off as a wealthy man ever since 
 you returned to the neighbourhood." 
 
 " I have done nothing of the sort. I don't 
 know .what maggot people may have got in their
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 heads, but I never spread such a report, nor did 
 I know it existed till some time after I had 
 returned." 
 
 Gerald spoke calmly, but he had grown sud- 
 denly pale and there was an ominous tightening 
 about the lips. 
 
 " At least you knew that such was the pre- 
 vailing opinion at the time you accepted this 
 note, and you were careful not to set it right," 
 said the attorney. 
 
 " I cared, or was careful for nothing of the 
 sort, and I would recommend you, Mr. Mc- 
 Master, to be careful how you make insinuations 
 which are very like insults. It was not my 
 business to go about the place, disclosing my 
 private affairs to all and sundry." 
 
 ".You are attempting to take a tone with me 
 which your position does not warrant," said Mc- 
 Master severely. " I fancy most people will 
 think that it was sharp practice, to use no harsher 
 word, to trade on a false reputation in order to 
 smuggle your name on to a valuable security, 
 when all the time you were a man of straw. 
 What about that Golden Horseshoe Mine? 
 Your nephew told me in this very room that 
 you had an interest iin that running into the hun- 
 dreds of thousands," and the attorney lay back 
 in his chair with the air of a man who had 
 crushed his opponent. 
 
 " My nephew was very wrong -quite mistaken 
 in saying anything like that," Gerald answered, 
 loyally endeavouring for the sake of the old name 
 to screen Bob's trickery so far as possible. " It 
 is true I hold something like a quarter interest in 
 175
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 an undeveloped mine. It may be worth much 
 or little. At present, I don't suppose I could 
 raise a five pound note on it." 
 
 11 Then how came you " began McMaster, 
 
 but checked himself. " After all, there is no- 
 thing to be gained by discussing the matter 
 here," he resumed. " You had better reserve 
 your defence for the witness box." 
 
 '" There is no occasion to bring it into court," 
 Gerald quietly observed. " We do not dispute 
 that the money is owing." 
 
 "There is such a thing as criminal proceed- 
 ings," replied the attorney vindictively. 
 
 Bob bounded from his seat. 
 
 " It wasn't my uncle at all. He knew nothing 
 about it. I found the 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Bob. Sit down and 
 leave this to me." Then Gerald went on, turn- 
 ing to McMaster. 
 
 " Don't talk rubbish about criminal proceed- 
 ings. You have suffered no wrong. The debt 
 existed before I came on the scene at all. Be the 
 value of my additional guarantee great or little, 
 you are that much to the good." 
 
 "No, sir," retorted the lawyer. "But for 
 your interference we should have attached and 
 sold the horse." 
 
 " Attach him now, by all means," cried Gerald, 
 "and sell him if you can find a purchaser. I ask 
 nothing better." 
 
 " I am not sure that my client cares to be 
 
 troubled with the animal," replied the attorney, 
 
 feeling that he had rather overshot the mark. 
 
 " You will understand that this repudiation of 
 
 176
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 yours has taken me by surprise. I will consult 
 Mr. O'Haraand determine with him what course 
 to take." 
 
 " I think, in your client's interests, it is the 
 best thing you can do," Gerald said. " But you 
 will oblige me by not using such a word as re- 
 pudiation. I stand by my signature and repu- 
 diate nothing. I now formally renew my offer. 
 Four hundred pounds cash, the balance in notes 
 at six, twelve, and eighteen months, on which I 
 am willing to pay six per cent, interest. You 
 may call me a man of straw, Mr. McMaster, but 
 I am also a man of my word; and I am not a 
 pauper. Or in the alternative, seize the horse 
 I wish to heaven, you seized it long ago and 
 apply whatever he fetches to the debt. I advise 
 you to lay this scheme before your client. It 
 seems to me the only chance he has of getting his 
 money. If ,400 will not pay the deficit, I will 
 give my note for the balance at my own date, 
 bearing interest as I specified. And if I live, 
 that note will be met at maturity." 
 
 "And if you do not live," suggested the 
 lawyer. 
 
 "You can insure my life," said Gerald shortly. 
 And, beckoning Bob to follow, he left the room. 
 
 177
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 KATE'S EYES ARE OPENED. 
 
 BOB had driven Molly to Rogers' as requested, 
 but he purposely took her a long way round, for 
 he wished to consult her, and, as a drowning man 
 will clutch at a straw, he poured out the whole 
 was in his sister's ear, though even to her he 
 was not quite ingenuous. He strove to gloss 
 over, and where that was impossible to excuse 
 the discreditable part he himself had played, and 
 dwelt much on the firm belief he had always 
 entertained in his uncle's wealth. 
 
 But Molly knew her brother, and instantly 
 arrived at an opinion of the whole transaction, 
 which was very nearly correct. She saw at a 
 glance how serious the situation might become 
 O'Hara rejected and incensed, Gerald ignorant 
 of the shifts and pretences by which his nephew 
 had secured his object. She hardly listened to 
 Bob's excuses. 
 
 " Go straight to Uncle Gerald, tell him exactly 
 what you have done. He must know the truth 
 before he sees McMaster." 
 
 " But he will be awfully angry," objected 
 Bob. 
 
 " I should think he ought to be. That 
 doesn't matter, you have put him in a dreadful 
 position. The least you can do is to see that he 
 does not fight these people blindfold." 
 
 It was by no means characteristic of Molly that 
 178
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 she uttered scarce a word of reproach to her 
 brother during his confession. It seemed to her 
 a terrible thing an inconceivable thing. It 
 sickened and almost stunned her. But time was 
 precious. Recrimination could come later. So 
 she saw Bob started on his unwelcome errand, 
 and then, turning her pony, lashed it into a gal- 
 lop as she took the homeward road. "She did not 
 even see her uncle when he jumped back to es- 
 cape the flying hoofs, though he rilled all her 
 thoughts. 
 
 " Poor uncle Gerald," she was saying to her- 
 self. " Nothing but worry and trouble ever since 
 he came home, and now this the worst of all !" 
 
 It was to Kate Fetherstone that Molly had 
 been for years accustomed to turn in all her 
 troubles, and almost instinctively she now sought 
 the friend whom she had always found so helpful 
 in her helplessness. 
 
 1 My poor little girl," Kate said, sympatheti- 
 cally, when Molly had incoherently poured out 
 her woes, " you musn't let all this distress you 
 so; you did quite right to come to me. Bob, as 
 I understand it, has been getting into difficulties 
 and giving notes that he can't meet. Well, he's 
 a very naughty boy, but I can't have you break- 
 ing your heart about him. His uncle, you say, 
 will not help him." 
 
 " No, no, no!" cried the girl. " I must have 
 been stupid and explained myself badly. Uncle 
 Gerald has been awfully good, and signed this 
 wretched note to gain time for him. Now, they 
 are coming down on him for it, and expect him 
 to pay it." 
 
 170
 
 WHERE THE SHAMRpCK GROWS 
 
 " A very natural expectation," laughed Kate. 
 " People that sign notes must meet them. The 
 best thing your uncle can do, after giving his 
 foolish nephew a good scolding, is to pay and 
 look pleasant." 
 
 " But he can't. He hasn't the money. All 
 he has is a few hundred pounds, and they want 
 ever so much more." 
 
 " Your uncle Gerald has only a few hun- 
 dreds," Kate cried, in astonishment. "Why, 
 I thought he was a millionaire, or something like 
 it." 
 
 "So we all thought," answered Molly, "but 
 he isn't. That mine of his I was asking him 
 about it only the other day. He says its nothing 
 but a hole in the ground. He has nothing but 
 his salary as newspaper correspondent." 
 
 Kate was silent. Her thoughts flew back to 
 the many, many intimate conversations she had 
 held with Gerald. Had he ever disclosed his 
 real position to her ? She was sure he had not. 
 On the other hand, he had never posed as a 
 wealthy man. She had accepted him as such; 
 but, then, he had allowed her so to accept him. 
 He had deceived her, none the less effectually 
 because tacitly. And she had given him her 
 heart; nay, more, she had quite made 
 her mind up to give him her hand when he asked 
 for it. The penniless adventurer wooing the 
 heiress! That ride they had taken together! 
 But for the accidental meeting with O'Hara she 
 might be even now his affianced wife. The one 
 great dread of her life, but for this opportune 
 discovery, might have become a reality. She 
 1 80
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 had been wooed and well-nigh won for her 
 money. 
 
 Molly watched the changing face with keen 
 anxiety. She had no clue to the other's 
 thoughts, but she plainly saw that something 
 something that had nothing to do with Bob or 
 his embarrassments had stricken Kate old and 
 haggard in a moment. She slipped from her 
 seat to her knees and caught her friend's hand. 
 
 " Kate, dear Kate, what have I said? What 
 has hurt you so? Speak to me, dear. I can't 
 bear to see you look like that. I wish I had 
 never come to you with this trouble if it upsets 
 you so." 
 
 Miss Fetherstone drew the girl towards her 
 and b'ssed her, but it was a moment or two before 
 she ccald trust her voice to reply. 
 
 "You were quite right to come to me, dear 
 little friend," she said presently. "Come to me 
 with all your troubles. I can never be too 
 thankful you brought me this one." 
 
 Then she fell silent again. That night on 
 the terrace, the passion that had vibrated in his 
 tones ! Could men be so base, could they stoop 
 so low to gain wealth ? And she, if she had 
 yielded, what a fate had been hers. Bought and 
 sold, for the value that was in her, like a sheep 
 at a fair. 
 
 Molly waited for her to continue, but for 
 whole minutes only the ticking of the clock on 
 the mantel broke the silence. At last she ven- 
 tured a timid questioning, " yes " ? 
 
 Kate roused herself with a start. " I beg 
 your pardon, dear. What were we talking 
 ifti
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 about? Oh, to be sure. This trouble your 
 people have got into. I meant, when you told 
 me first, to have tried to arrange the matter for 
 Bob " 
 
 "Oh, thank you, dear!" broke in Molly grate- 
 fully. 
 
 The other continued, speaking in a cold, level 
 voice 
 
 " But as you explain it, it seems rather your 
 uncle's affair. I am afraid I could not presume 
 to interfere." 
 
 Molly was clever enough, and she was quite 
 familiar with the views Miss Fetherstone held 
 on courtship and marriage, nor had Gerald's 
 attitude towards Kate, on the many occasions 
 she had seen them together, escaped the girl's 
 keen eyes. She had watched the growth of that 
 romance with an assured hope that it would have 
 a happy ending. So the tone in which Miss 
 Fetherstone had announced that she could not 
 presume to interfere in her uncle's affairs, spoke 
 volumes to Molly's ear. It told her that the 
 sudden announcement of Gerald's true position 
 had re-awakened in Kate the haunting fear that 
 she was being sought, not for herself but for 
 what she had. 
 
 "Oh, but Kate, dear," she cried, "you 
 mustn't misunderstand Uncle Gerald. He never 
 pretended to be anything but what he really is. 
 It was all our own silly faults. We would have 
 it that he was so rich I don't know why, except 
 that he was always so generous, and used to give 
 us presents that you would only expect a very 
 rich man to make. And you know the wild 
 182
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 ideas people here have about anyone that come* 
 from America. But this, I am sure never by 
 word or act did Uncle Gerald try to deceive any- 
 one, and I'm sure he'd rather die than deceive 
 you." 
 
 But Kate's mind was in its most morbid state, 
 and she only saw in this impassioned appeal a 
 confirmation of her betrayal. The whole Delaney 
 family, then, were in league to capture the 
 heiress. Well, from their point of view it was 
 natural enough. For herself it was only one 
 more disillusionment, but far the worst. 
 
 " I am sure I am far from criticising any 
 course Mr. Gerald Delaney has chosen to adopt. 
 I am surprised to hear he is not a wealthy man ; 
 I had somehow always fancied he was, and I am 
 sorry for his and all your sakes it is not so. But 
 of course it is no business of mine." 
 
 The girl regarded her wistfully. This tone 
 was new to her. She longed to speak she had 
 so much to say in praise of her adored uncle but 
 she feared to make matters worse, and remained 
 silent. 
 
 " And, now, Molly," Kate continued, " I'm 
 afraid I must send you away. I'd ask you to 
 stay and have some lunch, but I have a head- 
 ache, and fear you'd find me poor company. I 
 think I had better lie down." 
 
 " Poor you," the girl said, wistfully. She 
 had much ado to choke back her tears. 
 
 Kate held out her hand. Molly noticed she 
 did not offer to kiss her. 
 
 " Good-bye. I hope this little difficulty will 
 arrange itself satisfactorily." 
 183
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "I hope so; I'm only sorry I troubled you 
 about it," Molly replied. 
 
 And for the first time in her life she left the 
 Priory far more sadly than she had entered it. 
 
 When she had gone Kate threw herself on 
 the sofa. 
 
 "Oh, the shame of it! The bitter, burning 
 shame of it ! Is it always to be so with me. And 
 I could have loved him! God help me, I do 
 love him!" 
 
 184
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 GERALD had done all in his power, and could 
 now only await the event. Whether O'Hara 
 would be inclined or not to accept such composi- 
 tion as he was able to offer, he had no means of 
 knowing. His best hope was that the creditor 
 might seize the horse ; his worst fear, that Bob 
 would be thrown into bankruptcy and Liscarrick 
 sold. And all the while his sensitive pride 
 tingled at the thought of lying under the suffer- 
 ance of such a man as O'Hara. Had it been 
 in his power he would have gladly paid up, 
 though it had beggared him. 
 
 Molly had told him something of her last in- 
 terview with Kate Fetherstone, and the deduction 
 she had drawn therefrom. This gave Gerald 
 more concern than all the rest. The very next 
 morning saw him on his way to the Priory, 
 resolved, as he said, to have it out with Kate. 
 As he went he pondered, reviewing, even as she 
 had done, the course of their friendship, and 
 trying to remember how much or how little had 
 been said, how much or how little had been with- 
 held. 
 
 Of any intentional deception his conscience 
 acquitted him. Since Kate Fetherstone had 
 crossed his horizon he had come to regard her as 
 the one woman in the world for him the one he 
 coveted; the one he would do his best to win, 
 185
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Creature of moods and impulses as she was, he 
 had found her infinitely charming, and the ques- 
 tion of money had never entered his thoughts 
 in connection with her, save when she introduced 
 it herself in the course of some of her morbid 
 imaginings. 
 
 By habit and training Gerald was more than 
 half an American, and he looked at these things 
 as an American might be expected to look. If 
 he brought to the common stock his love and 
 all else that he had, be that much or little, he 
 considered that he was contributing as liberally 
 as his chosen bride, who could bring no more 
 though she were richer than King Midas. 
 
 He knew, however, that Kate would look at 
 the position differently, viewing it through the 
 distorting medium of her own prejudices. ' Pre- 
 judices,' he called them, and yet he could not 
 but make allowance for Kate's feelings a 
 woman who had been wooed so often, but never, 
 as she believed, loved for herself. 
 
 By the time he rode up to the Priory door he 
 had all his facts prepared, all his arguments mar- 
 shalled. Hopefully he rang, and was told that 
 Miss Fetherstone was ill, and could not see 
 anyone. 
 
 Meanwhile O'Hara and McMaster were not 
 letting the grass grow under their feet. The 
 attorney duly submitted Gerald's proposition, 
 which Mat, after considering it in all its 
 bearings, was prepared to accept. 
 
 " For look at here, Mac," he argued. " If I 
 go for to sell up the ould place, by yer own 
 showing it'll take the divil of a lot of time, an' 
 186
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 I'm not denyin' that a bit o' ready would be 
 convaynient just now will ye tell me the time 
 it wouldn't be? An' I believe in the thorough- 
 bred if ever he got fair play. I'll go for the 
 little harse, Mac, an' what money I can get to 
 the boot of him." 
 
 " You'd get every penny due you if you sold 
 up Robert Delaney," said the attorney, " but its 
 for you to decide." 
 
 "Well, now, here's the truth for ye," said 
 O'Hara. "Ye may call me sintimintal an' a 
 
 d d fool, but I couldn't be afther sellin' a 
 
 house where I've drunk as much good whiskey as 
 I have in Liscarrick, an' Gerald was very dacent 
 to me in the latther end coverin' me with a rug 
 that night, an' pillows to me head. By-the-bye, 
 have ye sarved the widow with papers, or 
 whatever it is you have to do afore ye breach 
 her." 
 
 " If you please, we will keep to the matter in 
 hand," said the lawyer, repressing a smile. 
 " One thing at a time. You've decided, then, 
 to accept Mr. Gerald Delaney's offer, four hun- 
 dred pounds in cash, and his notes for such 
 further deficit as the sale of this animal leaves 
 uncovered." 
 
 "What sale? I'm to have the little harse, 
 ain't I?" 
 
 " The procedure is this. We distrain on the 
 debtor's goods in this case the horse is practi- 
 cally the only available asset. Then the goods 
 the horse, you know, are sold by auction. If 
 they fetch more than the debt, the excess is 
 returned to the debtor. If they fetch less, why 
 187
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Mr. Gerald stands ready to make up the differ- 
 ence in cash and notes." 
 
 " But I didn't want to sell the little harse. I 
 want to own an' run him," objected O'Hara. 
 
 " Well, buy him in," said McMaster. " You 
 can bid at the auction as well as another." 
 
 " Maybe he'll go higher than I care to go," 
 Mat remarked. 
 
 "Not he," replied the attorney. " It's my 
 belief fifty pounds will buy him. Remember, 
 there's no reserve in a sale like this, and who's 
 likely to bid for a thoroughbred in these parts. 
 In the first place no one has the money, and in 
 the next no one would know what to do with such 
 \an animal if he had it." 
 
 " Begorrah, Mac, ye've a great head on you 
 entirely," exclaimed the Squireen, smacking his 
 knee enthusiastically. " If I get that little harse 
 for fifty aye, or two hundred and fifty, I'll have 
 the inside of the deal an' Gerald's four hundred 
 to pay it with. When will ye sell him ?" 
 
 "We have to seize him first," began 
 McMaster, but O'Hara interrupted. 
 
 " Don't seize him for yer life. He has no vice, 
 but he's plenty of spirit. Take him gently, an' 
 he'll lead like a sheep." 
 
 " Oh, well," said the attorney, impatiently, 
 " we must first take possession of the animal 
 there will be no difficulty about that under the 
 arrangement Mr. Gerald proposes then the sale 
 must be advertised ' 
 
 "That settles it," broke in Mat. "The 
 minute Flannagan hears of it he'll be down, an' 
 he'd go over a thousand, hopping." 
 188
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " We need only advertise in the local paper, 
 and a bill or two at the chapel door and on a few 
 gate-posts. Make your mind easy. It will be 
 quite a local affair." 
 
 " Begob, Mac, if you bring this off for me, 
 I'll say ye're the greatest lawyer' ever was 
 pupped by the divil, an' that's sayin' a big 
 word." 
 
 And nodding to his friend, O'Hara lounged 
 out of the office. 
 
 For a few days McMaster was busy with the 
 preparation for his projected coup. Judgment 
 had to be secured on the protested note and dis- 
 tress issued in default of payment. The neces- 
 sary legal papers were served on Bob, but this 
 gave his uncle little concern. The affair was 
 taking the course he had hoped. The horse 
 would be seized; well and good. He could not 
 fail to fetch ^1,000, even on forced sale. Say 
 he only brought half his original price that 
 would be ;8oo, Gerald stood ready with ^400 
 more, and the balance could await his conveni- 
 ence. He began to see his way out of the 
 tangle. 
 
 But if the sky showed signs of clearing in one 
 direction, in another the clouds lowered dark and 
 ominous. Every day for a week Gerald rode 
 over to the Priory and inquired for Miss Fether- 
 stone, and each day he was met with the same 
 answer, delivered in unchanging tones by 
 Bishop. 
 
 " Miss Fetherstone is not well, sir, and is not 
 seeing anyone." 
 
 One day he encountered Mrs. Purvis, but his 
 189
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Anxious inquiries elicited little from that estim- 
 able lady. 
 
 " Dear Kate has not been quite herself for a 
 few days nothing serious oh, dear no; she 
 seems to have lost her appetite, and is not sleep- 
 ing well. No, she will not see a doctor. Its 
 really nothing to be alarmed about. Its the 
 change in the weather, I expect. Some people 
 find these thaws very trying. Yes, I'll tell her 
 you were inquiring. Good morning." 
 
 On Sunday Gerald went to Molly. 
 
 " Look here, dear. I'm afraid Kate Fether- 
 stone is very ill. Oughtn't you to go and see 
 her? I'll drive you over if you like." 
 
 " I don't think she is very ill, Uncle, and I 
 am sure she wouldn't care to see me. I don't 
 think I'd better go." 
 
 "It looks so unkind, dear," 
 
 " Well, if you think so, but I'm sure its no 
 use." 
 
 After church, Molly went to the Priory, un- 
 willingly enough, but she would have under- 
 taken more distasteful tasks to please her uncle. 
 The result was as she had expected. 
 
 " Miss Fetherstone's love, miss, and its very 
 good of you to call, but she really thinks she 
 had better keep perfectly quiet for a few days." 
 
 So Molly returned with all the sensations of 
 having received a snub, and Gerald was at his 
 wit's end.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 PLAIN SPEAKING. 
 
 MOLLY'S visit of enquiry, though seemingly un- 
 availing, was not without result. For a whole 
 week Kate had borne her torture in solitude, now 
 framing denunciations of Gerald's perfidy where- 
 with to overwhelm him when they met, now 
 conning over every word he had spoken to her, 
 and analysing the very tone of each utterance, 
 hoping to acquit him of deliberate deceit. But 
 through it all she longed to see him, and day 
 after day she resolutely denied herself to his 
 enquiries, suffering perhaps, more than he did. 
 
 No sooner had Molly gone than she would 
 have recalled her message if she could, and 
 resolved to see her on the next occasion. Molly 
 did not come again, but Gerald called as usual 
 the next day and Kate received him. 
 
 He thought her looking pale, though that was 
 usual to her, and she did not rise to greet him. 
 But she showed, to his eye, few traces of recent 
 illness. 
 
 " I hope you are better," he said, coming 
 eagerly forward. 
 
 11 Much better thank you ; quite well in fact," 
 she replied. "You have been very kind and 
 attentive in calling to enquire. May I ask 
 why? " 
 
 The coldness of her tone chilled Gerald. Molly 
 191
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 had been right then. But he answered her as if 
 they both stood quite on the old footing. 
 
 " Why? because I was anxious. Surely you 
 must have realised by this time that your health 
 and happiness mean a great deal to me." 
 
 "So I had begun to believe," she replied. 
 " But quite lately I have come to doubt if my 
 health and happiness are the possessions of mine 
 which interest you most." 
 
 There was no mistaking her meaning. Gerald 
 flushed hotly as he rose from his chair, but she 
 continued in the same cool, cutting tones. 
 
 " Mr. Delaney, you have passed as a very rich 
 man. Is that your real position ? " 
 
 " Far from it," he answered. 
 
 " Then why, sir ' Kate's temper was 
 
 beginning to rise and her voice shook "then 
 why have you always led me to believe that you 
 were?" 
 
 " I never told you anything of the sort." 
 
 His temper too, was going, but his self control 
 was far greater than hers. 
 
 "Granted," she retorted, "but you never 
 denied the fact." 
 
 " Why should I ? " he asked coolly. 
 
 Then Kate blazed out. 
 
 "What right had you to come to me in such 
 a guise ? What business had you to speak words 
 of love to me if you did not care for me." 
 
 " Did any words I have spoken to you cause 
 you to believe I cared for you ? " 
 
 "They did," she answered quickly. " And 
 they were intended to." 
 
 " They were," he assented. " And what busi- 
 
 IQ2
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 ness have you to doubt that I meant every word 
 I uttered?" 
 
 "Doubt!" she said scornfully, "when we 
 know, we doubt no longer. We are no strangers. 
 .You have heard my opinions and my experiences. 
 We have discussed them many a time. And 
 yet you left me in the dark." 
 
 "Miss Fetherstone," Gerald said quietly, "a 
 ^man does not seek the woman he loves with a 
 schedule in his hand of his assets and liabili- 
 ties. He tries to win her heart first of all, con- 
 vinced that if he can do that all the rest will 
 follow. At least, so it seems to me. You think 
 differently. In you I see a noble woman whose 
 nature has been warped by the consciousness of 
 undue riches, but you were the one woman in 
 the world for me, and I thought, if I could 
 succeed in kindling the spark of real love within 
 you, I could lay this demon of distrust that you 
 have conjured up, and make you forget your 
 money." 
 
 " Can you truthfully say that you forgot it 
 that all this time you have never thought of my 
 money? " she demanded. 
 
 "I have thought of it often and often," he 
 replied, " and always to curse it as the one barrier 
 circumstances had set between us." 
 
 Kate hesitated a moment, and for a moment 
 Gerald hoped he had convinced her. But her 
 temper ruled her still. 
 
 "You are very eloquent," she sneered. 
 " The most eloquent of all who have told me the 
 same tale and sworn, as you do, that I was every- 
 thing and my wealth was nothing. But I found 
 
 IQ3 
 
 N
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 them out in time, as I have found you out to- 
 day." 
 
 "Then there is no more to be said," replied 
 Gerald. " I pity you profoundly, Kate. You 
 will never find happiness. Your money is a 
 curse to you." 
 
 She stared wildly at him, struggling to speak, 
 but the words would not come. At last her 
 overstrained nerves found relief in a wild, 
 hysterical burst of weeping. She threw herself 
 on the couch and buried her face in the pillows. 
 
 "A curse to me," she sobbed. "Oh, it is 
 that; God knows it is that." 
 
 But Gerald had left the room. 
 
 After a time the sobs died down and she grew 
 calmer. Temper had been effectually quenched 
 in that flow of tears. She rose and looked in a 
 mirror. 
 
 " What a fright I am," she exclaimed aloud, 
 " and oh, but I am so miserable. If I should 
 be wronging him." 
 
 Her eyes filled again at the possibility, and she 
 turned impatiently away. 
 
 n If this goes on I shall be making myself 
 ill," she thought, "and he is not worth it. 
 None of them are." 
 
 She went upstairs and locked herself in her 
 room, refusing to appear at luncheon. She 
 denied admittance to Mrs. Purvis, telling that 
 lady through the door that she needed nothing, 
 and wished to be left alone. Then she threw 
 herself on the bed and lay for more than an hour 
 thinking, thinking. 
 
 This grew unbearable, and the solitude almost 
 
 IQ4
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 equally so. She rose and went to her writing 
 desk. 
 
 " Dearest Molly," she wrote, " will you spare 
 one of your happy hours to poor, miserable me, 
 and come over and have a cup of tea with me in 
 my bedroom. I am afraid I was cross to you 
 last time you were here, but I was very upset and 
 out of sorts at the time. I know at least I hope 
 that you will forgive me." 
 
 And she signed herself, " Yours as always, 
 Kate." 
 
 " Tell Nolan to take this note over to Lis- 
 carrick and wait for an answer," she said to the 
 maid who appeared in response to her ring. 
 " No, just tell Nolan I want to see him." 
 
 When the girl had gone she tore open the 
 envelope and added a few lines. 
 
 '" Do come, dear, and come at once. I am 
 sending the brougham. I would love you to 
 stay all night, but I know, under the circum- 
 stances, that is asking too much, so I will send 
 you back whenever you like." 
 
 " Nolan," she said, opening the door when the 
 groom knocked, " take the brougham and drive 
 over with this note for Miss Delaney. Wait 
 for an answer. Very likely she will come back 
 with you." 
 
 As the man knuckled his forehead and turned 
 to go she noticed a newspaper in his hand. 
 
 " What's that?" she asked. "'The Drine 
 Sentinel ' ? Do you read that rag?" 
 
 " There's an advertisement in it, miss, one 
 of the boys was showing me. Maybe you 
 haven't seen it." 
 
 '95
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 'And he handed her the paper, indicating with 
 his finger the paragraph referred to. She took 
 it, and read : 
 
 IMPORTANT SALE. 
 
 On Tuesday, the 26th January, at 12 noon, 
 Messrs. Cleary and O'Shaughnessy will sell 
 by auction, at Mr. Farrell's yard, the cele- 
 brated thoroughbred horse Liscarrick, by Fire- 
 fly out of Magda, formerly owned by Robert 
 Delaney, Esq., of Liscarrick. Absolutely no 
 reserve. The sale for the benefit of the 
 creditors. 
 
 It was Torney McMaster's advertisement, 
 and his spite had not omitted to deliver the sting 
 that lay in the concluding paragraph. 
 
 "Tuesday, the 26th," Kate said, glancing 
 again at the paper. "Why that's to-morrow." 
 
 " It is, miss." 
 
 " I did not know they were selling the horse. 
 ,You might leave me this, Nolan." 
 
 "Certainly, miss," and the groom withdrew. 
 
 "The sale for the benefit of the creditors," 
 read Kate. " This is that wretched note. Poor 
 Gerald. The blow really falls on him. He 
 tried to save his nephew and could not." 
 
 And she re-entered her room with the paper 
 clutched in her hand. 
 
 106
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 THE DOVE WITH THE OLIVE BRANCH. 
 
 *' THIS is very sweet and kind of you, Molly ," 
 said Kate, as the girl entered the room. " It 
 always does me good to see you, but you never 
 were more welcome." 
 
 " Of course, I'm glad to come to you, Kate 
 dear, and I'd like to do you good. I'm awfully 
 sorry to hear you've been so seedy. You don't 
 look up to much, that's a fact." And Molly 
 regarded her attentively. 
 
 Kate returned the scrutiny, and fancied she 
 detected the traces of recent tears in her visitor's 
 pretty eyes. 
 
 " I sent for you to cheer me up, dear, but from 
 the looks of you, you need cheering yourself. 
 Why, what's all this about?" she added, as 
 Molly turned away to hide her face. " You 
 ought to be as happy as the day is long, and 
 you've been crying you're crying this minute." 
 
 "Oh, Kate," the girl wailed, no longer trying 
 to keep the tears back, " Uncle Gerald's going 
 away. He's going away before my wedding." 
 
 Kate was thunderstruck. She had never con- 
 templated this. What she wished for or hoped 
 for regarding Gerald she could not have told her- 
 self, but the blank negation of absence, the 
 emptiness of the world which she felt without 
 him, and which if he left now, she realised 
 would never be filled again, appalled her. There 
 
 'Q7
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 was a catch in her breath which she could not 
 master as she exclaimed 
 
 " Going away! Not for good and all. Not 
 back to California 1" 
 
 11 Yes," sobbed Molly. He came home just 
 before lunch, and told me he could not possibly 
 wait. He was unexpectedly called back, he said, 
 and must leave at once." 
 
 "At once? That does not mean to-day, does 
 it?" Kate was white to the lips. 
 
 " Oh, no. He will wait for the auction to- 
 morrow they have seized Liscarrick for Bob's 
 debts, you know, and are selling him. And 
 there is some other business he has to settle. 
 But he leaves on Thursday and will sail Satur- 
 day." 
 
 Thursday I And this is Monday." There 
 was time still, Kate thought, if she could but 
 bend her stubborn pride to own she had wronged 
 him. 
 
 Aye, but had she wronged him ? The struggle 
 began anew between her heart and the .habit of 
 distrust that years had engendered. She hardly 
 listened as Molly poured out her grief and dis- 
 appointment, yet when she paused Kate realised 
 that she had understood all the girl had been 
 saying. 
 
 " I had so set my heart on Uncle Gerald giving 
 me away. It meant so much to me. Bob won't 
 be the same thing. Do you know that, next to 
 Jack, he and you are the dearest of all to me in 
 the whole world." 
 
 " He and you," the conjunction sounded 
 pleasant in Kate's ears. Molly went on 
 1 08
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 " I don't know what you have done to him 
 or rather, I do. It all dates from that day. Oh, 
 Kate, this is no time for politeness and conceal- 
 ment of anything but the plain truth. I know 
 what you have been thinking ever since I told 
 you Uncle Gerald was a poor man ; but you 
 wrong him. Kate, indeed, you wrong him. 
 Uncle Gerald never thought of money. He 
 never cared for it in his whole life. He might 
 have been rich if he was like other men and 
 cared, but he never did. I have watched him, 
 and I am sure he loves you with his whole 
 heart, and it's proud and happy you ought to be 
 to think you have won the love of a man like 
 Uncle Gerald and, oh, Kate, you won't let him 
 go away." 
 
 Molly poured out her appeal in a torrent of 
 breathless words, and Kate, looking down into 
 the honest depths of the swimming eyes, mar- 
 velled that she could have ever doubted the girl's 
 transparent sincerity, yet she had doubted, and 
 suspicions, unwarranted in one case, might well 
 be unwarranted in all. Was she wronging 
 Gerald? 
 
 " I'm afraid it doesn't rest with me to keeper 
 send him," she said. " He was here to-day, and 
 I spoke very cruelly, very bitterly words that 
 no man could forget, and God forgive me, since 
 I have seen you I feel that perhaps I misjudged 
 him." 
 
 41 Will you tell him so? I don't care what you 
 said. Uncle Gerald loves you so that if you but 
 stretched out your hand he would come from the 
 end of the world to take it."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "Heaven reward you, Molly, and it will," 
 cried Kate. " Blessed are the peace makers." 
 
 Molly sought her uncle the moment she 
 arrived at Liscarrick, but he had driven out with 
 Bob soon after lunch, and they had not yet 
 returned. So she unburdened herself to Jack, 
 from whom she had no secrets. 
 
 That young gentleman was not hopeful. He 
 already knew something of his cousin's idiosyn- 
 cracy, and suspected it was deep-seated. 
 
 " Well, if that is all Kate's money has done 
 for her," he remarked, "I'm glad Grandpa 
 didn't leave it to me." 
 
 To which his bride-elect replied 
 
 " It isn't all it's done. Look at the lovely 
 trousseau it has bought for me." 
 
 " That's so," answered Jack, " but it has come 
 jolly near spoiling Kate's own trousseau for her, 
 and I only hope it won't spoil it yet." 
 
 Bob returned in the pony trap soon after dark, 
 but he was alone. To Molly's eager enquiries, 
 he replied that he had driven his uncle in to 
 catch the 2.50 train for Dublin, and that he had 
 seen him off in it. 
 
 Molly's countenance fell. 
 
 " He's he's not gone away like this without 
 saying good-bye or anything? " 
 
 " Not he," replied Bob. " He had a wire, and 
 said he must run up to town. But he'll be back 
 for the auction to-morrow. He promised he 
 would. Besides, all his traps are here." 
 
 So Molly did not see her uncle that night.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SELLING A THOROUGHBRED. 
 
 THE auction sale the next day was a very tame 
 affair. The hour fixed was twelve, and Jack 
 Whalen and Bob were present to see the last of 
 Liscarrick. Gerald's train was late, and he 
 only arrived in the yard a few minutes before 
 the horse was led out. The first thing that 
 struck him was the sparse attendance. 
 
 "Why there's scarcely anyone here," he re- 
 marked after he had greeted the others. " Bar 
 the casual loafers who are always with us, the 
 place is nearly empty. I expected to see dealers 
 from Cork and Dublin and all over." 
 
 " Maybe they hadn't heard of it," suggested 
 Jack. 
 
 "How can that be? It's been advertised, I 
 suppose?" said Bob. 
 
 "If it has, it doesn't seem to have done much 
 good, judging by the attendance," Gerald 
 observed, glancing round the score or so of 
 farmers who constituted, the assemblage, and 
 who did not look, as Bob observed, "as if they 
 could raise a fiver amongst them." 
 
 " Then it seems as if Bob's horse isn't quite 
 so good as he thought it was," remarked Jack. 
 
 " There isn't a better horse in Ireland, unless 
 they've bedevilled him since they took him from 
 me," retorted Bob, hotly. " Here he comes. 
 Look at him yourself."
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 Certainly it was a very handsome colt that 
 was led up and down the yard by one of Farrell's 
 stable men. He moved well and there was fire 
 in his eye with an occasional backward glance, 
 showing the white, which did not augur well for 
 his temper. 
 
 " Vicious, eh?" asked Jack. 
 
 " Not he. Only upset by the strangeness of 
 it all," replied Bob, vindicating his favourite's 
 character to the last. 
 
 41 There's O'Hara," cried Gerald suddenly. 
 " There near the door; standing with McMaster. 
 Don't pretend to see them." 
 
 "The d d curs," muttered Bob. "What 
 have they come here for? To gloat, I suppose." 
 
 " Gentlemen," began the auctioneer, " I 
 have to offer you an unique and splendid oppor- 
 tunity such an opportunity as has not been 
 heard of in this district, I'll be bound to say, 
 since it was a ahem ! district. You see the 
 three year old colt, Liscarrick, late property of 
 a well known sportsman Bob felt a thrill 
 of pleasurable pride and raised his head, which 
 
 had of late been carried very low " The 
 
 horse is in the stud book by Fire Fly out of 
 Magda, an Oaks winner, to be sold with all 
 his engagements, absolutely without reserve. 
 Come, gentlemen, what am I bid?" 
 
 No one spoke. One old farmer went over to 
 feel Liscarrick 's legs and was received with a 
 kick which, had it got home, would have 
 quenched his interest in horse flesh for many a 
 day. He retired. 
 
 "Come, gentlemen," the auctioneer recom-
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 menced impatiently. " Start the bidding. 
 Run him down the yard, Tom. Let the gentle- 
 men see how he moves. Ah, there's action. 
 Look at him well ; he can stand it. Come, come 
 gentlemen, say something, please. The horse 
 must be sold." 
 
 " Ten pounds," said the farmer whose brains 
 Liscarrick had tried to explore. This offer was 
 received by the bystanders with a shout of 
 derisive laughter. 
 
 "Thank you, sir!" The auctioneer acknow- 
 ledged the bid with excessive politeness. " Any 
 advance on ten pounds?" he went on ironically. 
 
 "Twenty," said another voice. 
 
 "Thirty," cried O'Hara. 
 
 Bob, when the bidding started at this absurd 
 figure, looked from one to the other of his 
 friends in consternation. 
 
 " What does it mean?" he gasped. 
 
 " A mack auction, I'm afraid," said Jack. 
 " Gerald, old chap, I'm sorry for you. I'm 
 afraid you've been had." 
 
 " There's O'Hara," cried Gerald, recognis- 
 ing the voice that made the last bid. " He's 
 here to buy the colt in. It's a knock out, I'm 
 afraid." 
 
 " I can't go far, but he shan't have it for 
 nothing," cried Jack. " Forty." 
 
 " Fifty," from O'Hara. 
 
 " Sixty!" said Jack. 
 
 "Thank you, gentlemen," chirped the 
 auctioneer. "Only sixty offered for the son 
 of Fire Fly and Magda. Why he's worth 
 thousands." 
 
 203
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 O'Hara had by this time recognised his 
 opponent. He squared himself and opened his 
 chest. 
 
 " One hundred!" he shouted. 
 
 "That lets me out, I'm afraid," whispered 
 Jack, and dropped into the background. 
 
 "One hundred pounds," repeated the 
 auctioneer, "only one hundred pounds. Why, 
 gentlemen, this is a disgrace to the county. No 
 advance on one hundred pounds. Going, 
 going " 
 
 " Seventeen hundred pounds," cried a voice 
 from the back of the yard, just in time to arrest 
 the fall of the poised hammer. 
 
 There was a moment's silence, and then a 
 ringing cheer went up from the men in the 
 yard. It was an Irish crowd, and dirty, bare- 
 foot, unkempt as most of them were, they were 
 sportsmen to a man. This sensational rise in 
 the bidding appealed to them. 
 
 In the breathless hush that followed the 
 unexpected offer, a boy's treble piped up from 
 somewhere : 
 
 41 Begorrah, I didn't know there was that 
 much money in the world." 
 
 The auctioneer waited till the rustle of excite- 
 ment had subsided. 
 
 " That's something like," he said. " Seven- 
 teen hundred bid seventeen hundred offered. 
 Come, Mr. O'Hara!" 
 
 He looked over at the Squireen, but the 
 latter shook his head. 
 
 " I dunno what looney's offering that money, 
 but I know when I'm bet. I'd like to see him 
 204
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 puttin' up the notes, though, afore I give in." 
 
 "Seventeen hundred any advance? Going 
 going gone!" and the hammer fell. 
 
 " Step up, sir, if you please, and sign your 
 name," continued the auctioneer, almost in the 
 same breath. 
 
 Everyone was eager to see the adventurous 
 bidder, and there was much pushing and craning 
 of necks as Nolan forced his way to the front. 
 
 " Why, it's Miss Fetherstone's groom," cried 
 the auctioneer. " Are you bidding for your 
 mistress, my man?" 
 
 " I am that," replied Nolan. " D'ye think 
 is she good for the money?" 
 
 Gerald's first sensation had been one of 
 exquisite relief as he realised that the sale, 
 begun in such discouraging fashion, had after 
 all brought in the full sum for which he had 
 bound himself. But the extraordinary course 
 which the bidding had followed puzzled him, 
 and even while Bob was rubbing his hands in 
 ecstasy, a suspicion of the truth came to his 
 uncle a suspicion converted into a certainty as 
 Nolan stepped forward to the desk. 
 
 He recalled the terms on which Kate and he 
 parted; indeed, he needed not to recall them 
 they were an ever present torture to him. How 
 could he lie under an obligation to this proud, 
 disdainful woman, who believed the worst of him 
 and did not scruple to tell him so? 
 
 But he was powerless. Miss Fetherstone was 
 free to bid for a horse put up at public auction, 
 and the price she paid for it was purely her 
 own affair. He had not intended to see her 
 
 305
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 again before his departure, but after what had 
 happened to-day, he felt he could not leave 
 without some word of acknowledgement or 
 remonstrance, or both. Most likely she would 
 not receive him. Still, he owed it to himself 
 to make the attempt. 
 
 He accosted the groom as he turned from the 
 desk after paying the usual deposit. 
 
 " That was a big jump you gave the bidding, 
 Nolan," he said. " Less than that would have 
 sickened Mr. O'Hara, I fancy." 
 
 " So do I, sir, but I followed me orders," 
 Nolan replied. 
 
 "Were your orders to offer seventeen 
 hundred right off, irrespective of what bids 
 preceded yours?" 
 
 " They were, sir. Miss Fetherstone towld 
 me never to mind what was said, but to bid 
 ;i,7OO for the horse, and to be sure he didn't 
 go for a penny less. Beg pardon, sir, but 
 Miss Fetherstone said not to lose a minute 
 comin' back an' tellin' her how things went." 
 
 And Nolan touched his hat and moved away 
 to take possession of his purchase. 
 
 Meanwhile, O'Hara had been exchanging a 
 few rapid words with McMaster. 
 
 "She's done me in the eye," the Squireen 
 said. "They've got the best of me." 
 
 " You'll get every penny of your money, 
 though," observed the attorney consolingly. 
 
 " I will; that's something; but I wanted to 
 
 get even wid them stuck up Delaneys. And 
 
 I'll do it yet," Mat added with an oath. " Get 
 
 ready them papers an' slap at the widow with 
 
 206
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 a breach of promise action. That'll put another 
 complexion o'n it, as the man said when he 
 peeled the potato." 
 
 " But O'Hara," urged McMaster, " it will do 
 you no good. You won't receive a penny. 
 You'll only " 
 
 The other cut him short. 
 
 "No words. Do as I bid you. If they're 
 lookin' for someone to wipe their feet on, it's 
 not on this Mat they'll do it," and he strode 
 over to the group which had gathered round 
 the thoroughbred. 
 
 Nolan had just taken the halter in his hand 
 and was in the act of leading the horse from 
 the yard. 
 
 "Tell Miss Fetherstone, with my compli- 
 ments," the Squireen said, "that she can have 
 what she's bought for all of me. I can't buck 
 up against Whalen's Distillery. And tell her 
 I know something about this little harse, and 
 I wouldn't advise her to ride him on the 
 snaffle. Away with ye now," and raising his 
 hand he bestowed a hearty smack with his open 
 palm on Liscarrick's quarter. 
 
 The horse lashed out instantly. One of the 
 iron shod heels caught O'Hara on the shoulder 
 and the other on the temple. He fell where he 
 stood as if he had been poleaxed. 
 
 W r hen they raised him up he was dead.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 AND so THEY WERE MARRIED. 
 
 GERALD paced up and down the Priory draw- 
 ing-room, a prey to a dozen varying emotions, 
 which swept over his mind without sequence or 
 connection, and wholly independent of his 
 volition. Miss Fetherstone had sent word she 
 would be down directly, but the minutes passed 
 and she did not appear. 
 
 What would she say to him, and what should 
 he say to her? He felt that he could not 
 endure to hear again such cutting words as she 
 had given him yesterday in this very room. 
 Yet then he had faced her on equal terms. To- 
 day, he lay under the weight of an obligation, 
 for he could not blink the fact that Liscarrick 
 had been bought for his sake, or, if not for his, 
 for the sake of his family name and honour. 
 
 Meanwhile, Kate's thoughts were as tumult- 
 uous as Gerald's own. O'Hara's fate came 
 as a great shock to her. She felt, illogically 
 she told herself, but still irresistibly, that if she 
 had not intervened at the auction, the 
 man would be alive at this moment. 
 If she had not bid for the horse 
 and here her reflections changed! She could 
 not have seen Gerald sacrificed the victim of 
 a dirty plot in a dirty town. Nolan had told 
 her that the auction was a mere farce; a plan 
 208
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 devised to get possession of the horse and still 
 keep her friends in the power of their creditors. 
 Well, it was done, and she had acted for the 
 best according to her lights. 
 
 She paused a moment in front of a mirror to 
 assure herself that her hair was not dis- 
 arranged; then she entered the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 They both felt the awkwardness of the 
 moment. Kate was the first to speak. 
 
 " What a terrible business about poor Mr. 
 O'Hara," she said. 
 
 "Yes, terrible, wasn't it?" he replied. "I 
 suppose you heard how it happened." 
 
 "Yes, Nolan told me. Do you know the 
 last words the poor fellow uttered before he was 
 struck down were a kind of message to me?" 
 
 " He felt sore over your outbidding him for 
 Liscarrick," said Gerald. "I, on the contrary, 
 have every reason to be grateful. Why did 
 you buy him and at such a price?" 
 
 " Oh, that horse," she exclaimed. " I shall 
 never be able to look at him. He is a 
 murderer." 
 
 " Why did you buy him?" persisted Gerald. 
 
 " Because," began she, and stopped. 
 "Hasn't Molly told you anything?" 
 
 " I have not seen Molly since lunch time 
 yesterday. I had to run up to town in the after- 
 noon and she was out when I started." 
 
 "Oh!" said Kate. She had trusted that 
 Molly's explanation would have made her task 
 of retraction easier that Gerald would have 
 met her half way. Now she found that all 
 
 209 
 o
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 remained for herself to do, and his manner 
 seemed cold and forbidding. 
 
 " Did Molly know you were going to bid for 
 the horse?" he asked. 
 
 " No. I said nothing at all to her about it. 
 I wish I had never thought of it. If I had not 
 interfered that wretched man would have been 
 alive now. You were quite right when you 
 said my money was a curse. It brings ill-luck 
 and misery wherever it goes ; but this is the 
 first time it has brought death." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Fetherstone, what a dreadful view 
 to take," said Gerald, speaking as lightly as he 
 could. " O'Hara brought his fate on himself. 
 He struck the horse when he was standing 
 straight in the line of the heels, and he 
 knew the brute kicked. And if you could 
 have seen Bob's face when he heard Nolan's 
 bid, you would not say that your money had 
 brought misery to him, at any rate!" 
 
 " And you?" Kate asked swiftly. " I con- 
 fess I was not much thinking of Bob in 
 the affair. Did I bring relief or misery 
 to you?" 
 
 Gerald looked at her in surprise. Her tone 
 was different. Her manner was different. 
 What could have happened to work such a 
 change in twenty-four hours? He still kept 
 guard on himself. 
 
 " My feelings were very mixed," he answered. 
 Of course, I was glad to see that wretched note 
 cleared off. It had been harassing me so long. 
 By the way, how came you to know anything 
 about it, and above all the exact amount, almost 
 
 210
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 to a fraction, that was needed to pay debt and 
 costs?" 
 
 She was embarrassed and remained silent a 
 moment, fingering the long chain she wore at 
 her neck. 
 
 " Oh, one has nothing to do but gossip about 
 one's neighbours in a silly little place like this," 
 she said at last. " One hears everything." 
 
 " Molly told you?" he suggested. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 Gerald drew a long breath. 
 
 " Well, I suppose I should be very grateful 
 to you, and I am. But it isn't pleasant to be 
 under so large a pecuniary obligation, especially 
 to a lady. If I had the money I would ask 
 you to sell me the horse at the price you gave 
 for him. Unfortunately I have not, and while 
 I can never cancel the debt of gratitude I owe 
 your kindness, I must ask you to accept some 
 arrangement that will make it less onerous for 
 me." 
 
 11 What do you mean?" she asked. The tone 
 he was taking made the admission she con- 
 templated very hard. 
 
 "I am returning to San Francisco almost 
 immediately," he explained. " I am going 
 back to work. I earn a good salary and I can 
 live very cheaply. Will you do what McMaster, 
 on poor O'Hara's behalf, had agreed to. That 
 is, to let me pay you back by instalments. I 
 could do it in eighteen months or two years 
 with suitable interest, of course. I think I 
 will find you the more lenient creditor," he 
 finished with rather a pitiful smile.
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 "So you refuse to let me help you, even in 
 this trifle," said Kate sadly. 
 
 "You must see for yourself that I cannot." 
 
 "And we used to be such friends!" She 
 paused and resumed abruptly : 
 
 " Tell me, if I had not said you know what 
 I said to you yesterday would you be satisfied 
 to let me keep the horse and say no more about 
 it?" 
 
 " Ah, but the words have been said," replied 
 he. " You must realize things are on a different 
 footing to-day." 
 
 "Are words irrevocable, then?" she Cried 
 passionately. " Must we weigh each sentence 
 we utter lest it come back to crush us? Do 
 you remember a talk we had it was the day I 
 ost my temper with Nolan and dismissed him. 
 I said : ' I am always saying something I want 
 lo take back afterwards,' and you said ' It is a 
 woman's privilege.' You spoke quite lightly 
 and pleasantly, for it was not your affair; it 
 did not touch you. But now that the case 
 comes home to yourself, there is no smile or 
 prettily turned compliment; no allowance for a 
 woman's hasty temper; 'The words have been 
 said ' I quote yourself, and they must stand 
 irrevocable though my heart is breaking." 
 
 A flood of tears choked her utterance. She 
 hid Tier face on the arm of the sofa, and shook 
 in a very paroxysm of unrestrained grief. 
 
 Gerald was on his feet in a moment. He 
 approached her; then he paused, won- 
 dering. He dropped on his knees beside 
 her and strove to take her hand, but she
 
 WHERE THE SHAMROCK GROWS 
 
 shook it free and covered her face again. 
 
 " Go away, go away," she sobbed. " Don't 
 mind me; I don't know what I am saying, and 
 I had better take care," she added with an 
 hysterical laugh, "for words are irrevocable." 
 
 " They are not," whispered he : " Everything 
 may be changed if the heart remains changeless. 
 Kate listen to me, Kate. If you did not mean 
 what you said yesterday if it was only temper 
 that spoke and not you I value your words as 
 nothing. I kneel at your feet, as I have been 
 longing to kneel this many a day, and ask the 
 sweetest woman in the world to give me herself 
 just herself, the most precious thing she has." 
 
 Kate had raised her head, and the sunshine 
 of hope and happiness was already drying her 
 tears. 
 
 " Are you sure you love me?" she whispered. 
 
 " Darling, I think I loved you the first time 
 I saw you, you remember Red Rover's runa- 
 way and it has gone on ever since. It will 
 never change." 
 
 "Gerald, dear, I am very happy," and as he 
 bent his lips to hers for that first kiss, Kate 
 felt that she had won a heart that loved her for 
 her own sake. 
 
 THE END
 
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