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 University of Illinois Library 
 
 L161— O-1096
 
 f <^ 
 
 INTERFERENCE.
 
 iNTlhlFEIlEiNCE. 
 
 
 BY 
 
 B. M. CROKER, 
 
 AITHOR OF 
 
 "PROPER PRIDE," "PRETTY MISS NEVILLE," 
 
 "A JilRI) OK PASSAOE," 'DIANA BARRINOTON," 
 
 "TWO MASTERS," &c. 
 
 /A TJfREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 4lonbon : 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 
 
 31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 
 1891.
 
 PRINTED nr 
 
 KELLY & CO., MIDDLE MIIJ>, KINCSTON-ON-THAMES ; 
 AND GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIKLDS, W.C.
 
 v.l 
 
 CONTE NTS. 
 
 CBAP. 
 
 I, — BALLTXriOOLK 
 
 II.— Gossip — (withoi t Tka) . 
 
 III. — TflK MaI/)\KS of I'lUDOKTSToWV 
 
 IV. — Mrs. Mai.o.nf. oi'kns unit Moiiii 
 V. — Foxy Jok 
 \ I. — Dangerous 
 VII. — Only Joxks . 
 VIII.— Miss Dopping to tuk Ivkscik 
 IX. — Clancy's Colt 
 X. — 1'ktty makks Two Conquests . 
 
 PA rue 
 1 
 
 10 
 
 31) 
 
 ().S 
 . J)3 
 
 no 
 
 . 138 
 l.-,7 
 
 . 177 
 200 
 
 ^
 
 INTEEFERENCE.
 
 INTERFERENCE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BALLING OOLE. 
 " So sleeps the pride of other days." 
 
 The town of Ballingoole lias always 
 awakened a certain amount of respectful 
 surprise in the minds of strangers ; it is 
 so amazingly unlike its name I Accord- 
 ing to tourists who wish to pay it an 
 extravagant compliment, it actually recalls 
 a line old English village, and, indeed, in 
 its palmy days, Ballingoole would not 
 have considered itself at all flattered by 
 the comparison. Fifty years ago it was 
 the stronghold of one of the most rigidly 
 exclusive circles in the south of Ireland. 
 
 VOL. I. 1 
 
 /
 
 2 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 The wide hilly street was lined by 
 noble and imposing residences, that looked 
 as if they had quitted country parks and 
 pleasure grounds, and flocked together 
 for company ; liberally planned gardens — 
 celebrated for fruit and roses — sloped away 
 from French windows at the rear of these 
 mansions, to the very brink of a slow, 
 brown canal — once glorified by fly boats, 
 galloping teams and gay passengers, but 
 now abandoned to lethargic barges, bear- 
 ing freights of turf and manure. In the 
 good old days the town was peopled by 
 retired ofi&cers (naval and military), 
 wealthy widows, and well-born spinsters, 
 and actually numbered a baronet, and the 
 brother of a viscount among its tenants. 
 
 There was an extensive collection of 
 the best society in Ballingoole in former 
 times ; whist parties — concluding with 
 very potent negus, goloshes and lanterns
 
 BALLINGOOLE. 3 
 
 — substantial dinners, with weiprhty joints, 
 strawberry fetes, and hunt breakfasts, were 
 of common occurrence. To tell the truth, 
 '' the town " was somewhat exclusive, and 
 secretly turned up its nose at most of the 
 county folk ; but now, alas ! times were 
 changed, and the county turned up its 
 nose at the town. 
 
 As years went on, ancient inhabitants 
 who remembered the illuminations after 
 AVaterloo, and told anecdotes of Georore 
 the Fourth, had been gTadually gathered 
 to their family vaults, and there was no 
 inducement for other gentry to take their 
 places. Some of the finest houses were 
 let in tenements, and displayed small 
 washings fluttering fi'om upper windows. 
 Several stood empty, with rustv area- 
 railings, and shattered panes. Over the 
 late abode of a baronet, himg thi'ee 
 weather-beaten golden balls, and the man- 
 
 1— :
 
 4 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 sion in whicli Mrs. General Moriarty once 
 held her famous routs and card parties, 
 thinks itself very lucky to be no worse 
 than the police barrack! 
 
 Yes, the big houses now merge into 
 shops, the shops into one-storeyed cot- 
 tages, and the cottages into squat mud 
 hovels, at the foot of the hill, down 
 which Ballingoole has been going in more 
 ways than one, for many years past. At 
 the head of the street, two residences are 
 still let to genteel tenants. Mrs. Finny, 
 a doctor's widow, and her daughter ; and 
 Miss Dopping, an eccentric old maid, 
 occupy the best houses in the place, for 
 the traditional old song. This is a con- 
 sideration with ]\Irs. Finny, a lady with a 
 limited income ; but Miss Dopping is rich, 
 and could afford herself a house in Park 
 Lane, if so disposed. She is the last of 
 her family, the sole legatee of more than
 
 BALLINGOOLE. 6 
 
 one comfortable fortune, but no one would 
 suppose it from lier appearance, as she 
 stalks down the street, tall, gaunt and 
 shabby. Although upwards of seventy 
 years of age, she is as erect as a lamp- 
 post, having been reared in the great 
 back-board period ; and, despite her rusty 
 black bonnet, frieze cloak, and ridiculous 
 purple woollen gloves, there is no mistak- 
 ing her for anything but a lady. 
 
 It was a soft November afternoon ; the 
 hedges were not yet quite bare ; the 
 haws — siofns of a hard winter — clustered 
 in thick red bunches, and yellow leaves, 
 from overhanging beeches, fluttered re- 
 luctantly into the muddy road. There 
 was not a somid to be heard in this still 
 coimtry spot, save the distant rattle of 
 an ass's car, and the clump of Miss Dop- 
 ping's umbrella, as she trudged along a 
 foot-path, but few degrees drier than the
 
 6 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 highway, en route to pay her quarterly 
 visit of ceremony, to her neighbour, Mrs. 
 Redmond of Noone. 
 
 Another half mile of the greasy foot- 
 path, and a lofty wall, topped with firs, 
 comes into view, also a pair of big iron 
 gates (once green), also a w^inding avenue 
 — which is very green indeed — lined with 
 dripping trees and over -grown laurels. In 
 answer to a scream of "gate" in Miss 
 Dopping's cracked falsetto, a fat old 
 woman, with a shawl over her head and 
 a key on her finger, came waddling out 
 of the lodge, and said as she curtseyed 
 profoundly : 
 
 " Good evening to you, me lady — a 
 fine, soft day." 
 
 " And how are you, Juggy ? " enquired 
 Miss Dopping, with a keen glance into 
 Juggy's round, red face. 
 
 " Faix, but poorly, me lady. I have
 
 BALLIXGOOLE. 7 
 
 had a cruel turn of thera rheumatics ; 
 they catches me here, and here, and here " 
 — clutching her elbows, back and knees, 
 to illustrate her sufferings. " I feel as if 
 I was being crucified, like the saints and 
 martyrs, but a good flannel petticoat 
 would put the life in me," and she stared 
 significantly at her interlocutor. 
 
 " It's only the damp weather — I feel it 
 myself," returned Miss Dopping unsym- 
 pathetically. " Any one above ? " pointing 
 up the avenue witli her notable umbrella 
 — an immense alpaca construction of dis- 
 tended proportions, likewise remarkable 
 for a huge ivory liandle, representing 
 Death's head. When remonstrated with 
 upon the subject of its size and age, its 
 owner invariably replied : 
 
 " It was good enough for my mother, 
 and is good enough for me, and will wear 
 out fifty of your nasty flimsy gimcracks."
 
 8 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 " Yes, me lady, I am afther opening 
 the gate for Mrs. Finny and Miss Maria." 
 
 Miss Dopping ejaculated something in- 
 audible, and looked over her shoulder, as 
 if she had a mind to retreat. 
 
 " You may as well go up, ma'am," 
 urged Juggy, possibly divining her 
 thoughts, " since you are so far. They 
 are in it a good hour or more, and bid 
 to be going soon, for there's no tay, or 
 cake and wine offered these times ! " 
 
 " Now what are they doing out here ? " 
 muttered the old lady to herself, as she 
 plodded up the avenue. " They were 
 here three days ago to my certain know- 
 ledge." 
 
 " Oh ! so that's you, Pat ? " to a 
 shock -haired urchin, with bare red legs, 
 who burst though the laurels, with a 
 grin of expectation on his dirty little 
 keen face.
 
 BALUNGOOLE. 9 
 
 " Let me see," diving into her pocket 
 as she spoke, " were you at school to- 
 day?" 
 
 "Begorra, I was, ma'am." 
 
 " Then spell Ballingoole ? " 
 
 Pat became pamfully red, and his grm 
 faded. 
 
 " Well, well, then never mind," pro- 
 ducing a little knitted jug, contaming 
 coppers, and placing three pennies m 
 his ready palm — 
 
 " Have you been out dark fowling 
 smce r 
 
 "No, ma'am," was his reply, — but he 
 lied unto her. 
 
 " Because if you ever do such a 
 cruel thmg agam, as blazing lanterns 
 into poor birds' eyes, and knocking 
 them down with sticks, you have seen 
 the last of my coppers, as sure as my 
 name is Sarah Dopping ; so mind that^'^
 
 10 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 and with an emphatic thump of her 
 umbrella, she tramped on. 
 
 The avenue at Noone was not im- 
 posingly long, and in a few minutes 
 Miss Dopping had turned the corner, 
 and was almost at the hall door. 
 
 Noone House was a straggling build- 
 ing, with no pretensions to beauty, 
 dignity, or even antiquity — merely a 
 big, grey mansion, with three rows of 
 windows, and a glass porch, overlook- 
 ing a low flat demesne, fringed with 
 rows of dreary fir-trees. The back of 
 Noone was flanked by a fine, old, 
 seasoned garden, and many acres of 
 worthless woods, which swarmed with 
 rabbits. The land was poor and marshy 
 — not to say boggy — neither useful nor 
 ornamental, and the rabbits were an im- 
 portant item in Mrs. Redmond's income. 
 She was the widow of an idle Irish
 
 BALIJNGOOLE. 11 
 
 gentleman, with a magnificent pedigree 
 and a meagre fortune, who had departed 
 this Hfe, leaving her two hundred a year 
 and one fair daughter — and she had en- 
 deavoured to make the most of both. 
 At eighteen, Isabel Redmond was a 
 remarkably handsome girl, the cynosure 
 of many eyes, as she and her mother 
 paraded about in showy costumes, to the 
 strains of a seaside band. She was unusu- 
 ally lively : she could sing pretty little 
 French songs, and act and dance in a 
 sprightly manner, and was taken up, and 
 asked about, by discriminating matrons — 
 with no unmarried daughters — and more 
 than once had been upon the brink of 
 an enviable match. ^Irs. Redmond was 
 ambitious, and her anticipations in the 
 shape of a son-in-law modestly stopped 
 just short of royalty. She strained every 
 nerve — and she was an enero;etic woman
 
 12 INTEKFEKENCE. 
 
 — to dress her idol with fitting display, 
 and to carry her into the most popular 
 haunts of men (eligible men). Garrison 
 towns, where cavalry were quartered, 
 French watering places, and German spas, 
 affected by rich and gouty bachelors, 
 were visited in turn by Mrs. and Miss 
 Redmond. These visits were brilliant, if 
 brief; they generally made some gay, 
 agreeable aquaintances — " birds of pas- 
 sage " like themselves, who voted them 
 charming, and loudly regretted their de- 
 parture — as did also their too trustful 
 tradespeople, for Mrs. Eedmond had a 
 bad memory for small bills. She was 
 an indefatigable chaperon, the most m- 
 dustrious and intriguing of her sex ; 
 and no galley slave, toiling at his oar, 
 under the blazing Mediterranean sun, 
 worked harder than she did at the 
 business — the vital busmess — of keeping
 
 BALLIXGOOLE. 13 
 
 up appearances, and " getting Isabella 
 settled." 
 
 To say that the army list, the county 
 famihes, and the peerage, were at her 
 fingers' ends, may give some faint idea 
 of her readino:. As to T^Titino;, she was 
 an untiring scribe, and deservedly merited 
 a private secretary ; corresponding with 
 important acquaintances, with distant, 
 aged, and wealthy connections, plying all 
 with graceful, flattermg letters, ditto 
 photographs of Belle, and expensive 
 Christmas cards ; snatching ravenously at 
 vague invitations ; following up marching 
 regiments, and anxiously courting the 
 female relatives of rich young men. 
 After ten years of knocking about Vanity 
 Fair, the most pushing and plausible of 
 vendors, her wares were no longer in 
 their first freshness, and alas ! still un- 
 sold ; for Miss Isabel, though beautiful.
 
 14 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 was said to have a cold heart, a hot 
 temper, and a head as empty as her 
 purse. Connections had died, and made 
 no sign. Correspondents were dumb ; 
 promising partners of Belle's had revoked 
 miserably and fled ; fine acquaintances 
 averted their eyes from what they con- 
 sidered a shabby old sponge, with a 
 IKissee daughter, and the poor-house loomed 
 immediately in her foreground. Mrs. Eed- 
 mond was at the end of her credit and 
 resources, and struggling in an angry sea 
 of debt, when Providence threw her a 
 plank. Old Brian Eedmond, one of her 
 many irons in the fire, havmg quarrelled 
 with all his near relatives, departed this 
 life, leaving (to spite the proverbially 
 hated heir-at-law) Noone House and lands 
 "to the pleasant widow woman with the 
 pretty daughter " — whom by the way he 
 had never seen.
 
 BALLIXGOOLE. 15 
 
 Joy ! Joy ! one of the widow woman's 
 many sprats liad cauglit a salmon at 
 last ! 
 
 Xaturally she was enchanted at her 
 good fortune, but — there is always a 
 but. The bequest was in Ireland, the 
 best country m the world to live out of, 
 in her opmion, and she was obliged to 
 agree to two stipulations before she could 
 call Xoone her own. In the first place, 
 she must guarantee to reside on the pre- 
 mises, and, secondly, she must share her 
 home with, and be "a mother " to, Brian 
 Redmond's orphan grand-niece — a relative 
 to whom he bequeathed a legacy of two 
 hundred pounds a year. If ^Irs. Redmond 
 objected to these clauses, she had the 
 remedy m her own hands, and Xoone 
 passed on to another remote connection, 
 one of the Redmonds of Ballyredmond — a 
 childless, rich, old man. Mrs. Redmond
 
 16 INTEKFERENCE. 
 
 hated the conditions of the will, but she 
 was socially and financially bankrupt ; 
 better to exist in Ireland, than to starve 
 in England ; her health was bad, her 
 energy abated, and after Avearying the 
 inmates of a cheap London boarding- 
 house, with pompous boastings of " my 
 place in Ireland," " my shooting," " my 
 Irish property," went over, and entered 
 into her kmgdom, with a curious mixture 
 of satisfaction and disgust. She had now 
 been residing on her own acres for three 
 years, saving and scraping with extra- 
 ordinary enjoyment, ignoring ancient debts, 
 and discovering a fresh and novel interest 
 in leasing the rabbit warrens, selling 
 fruit, fowl and turf, keeping few servants, 
 no equipages, and finding her excitements 
 in small country gossip, feuds with the 
 butcher, and starthng domestic economies. 
 There was also old Brian's other leo^acy
 
 . BALLING OOLE. 17 
 
 — Elizabetli, or Betty, Redmond, with 
 her two hundred pounds a year, which 
 her self-styled " Aunt " coolly appropriated 
 for her board and lodgmg, having re- 
 moved her from school when she was 
 seventeen years of age, believing that she 
 could find a more excellent use at home 
 for Betty and her money — in which belief 
 the astute old lady was subsequently 
 most fully justified. But enough of the 
 inmates of Xoone. For all this time we 
 are keeping Miss Dopping shivermg on 
 its hall door steps. At first she rang 
 gently, but firmly. After a pause, firmly, 
 but not gently. Fmally, a wild passion- 
 ate peal ; and then the distant slamming 
 of doors, and a heavy deliberate footfall 
 came in answer to her summons. 
 
 Miss Dopping was unmistakably put 
 out, because there had been a delay in 
 letting her m, and when the servant 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 18 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 volunteered to part lier and her umbrella, 
 she was, to say the least of it, a little 
 short in her manner. The old lady was 
 presently ushered into a drawing-room, 
 cold as a vault. From an adjoinmg 
 apartment, the babble of female tongues 
 and shrill laughter was distinctly audible ; 
 in a few minutes she was requested to 
 " step into the study," and here she dis- 
 covered Mrs. and Miss Redmond, and 
 Mrs. and Miss Fmny, disposed in four 
 arm-chairs, round a comfortable turf fire.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GOSSIP — (without tea). 
 
 " Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women." 
 
 — PtlCIIAUD III. 
 
 " Dear me, Miss Dopping ! " exclaimed 
 her hostess, rising with an effort from 
 the depths of a low seat. "This is in- 
 deed an unexpected pleasure. It is ages 
 since I have seen you ! Do come near 
 the fire. Ah, I forgot, you are not one 
 of its worshippers, hke me. I would 
 rather dispense with my dimier than my 
 fire ! " 
 
 " You would not say that, if you had 
 tried it," rejomed Miss Doppmg, seat- 
 ing herself bolt upright, and gazing 
 sharply around her.
 
 20 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 Mrs. Redmond shook her head from 
 side to side, hke a great pendulum, and 
 leant back in her chair, and crossed her 
 arms over her extensive waist. She was 
 a majestic matron, dressed in black, 
 with heavy regular features, little hard 
 yellowish eyes, and a dehberate delivery. 
 Her thick grey hair was covered with 
 a black cap, and her plump hands with 
 a pair of soiled grey kid gloves, minus 
 their finger -tops. 
 
 Isabel or Belle — " Belle and the 
 Dragon" were the names by which she 
 and her mother were known in certain 
 profane circles — lounged in an easy atti- 
 tude in a basket chair, holding an 
 Irish Times between her face and the 
 fire. It was a handsome face, and she 
 did well to protect it. Belle was a 
 young lady of, shall we say, seven and 
 twenty ? — at any rate she says so her-
 
 GOSSIP— (WITHOUT TEA). 21 
 
 self, and looks no more, and of course 
 every woman is the age she looks — 
 with a pair of dangerous black eyes, 
 straight black brows, a short upper hp, 
 a pointed chm, and a sufficient supply 
 of wavy dark hair. A small, graceful 
 figure and a slender foot, Avere not the 
 least of her attractions. But at present, 
 neither figure nor foot are seen to any 
 advantage, for she wears a dilapidated 
 old red tea-gown, with ragged laces 
 and stained front, and a pair of 
 extremely 2)assee slippers. In flict 
 Belle's toilette must not be too closely 
 scanned. 
 
 "Now, don't look at me ! Don't look 
 at me," she said, gesticulating with 
 much animation, and playfully holdmg 
 the newspaper between Miss Dopping 
 and herself. " I know I am an awful 
 object ; but in winter, I never adorn
 
 22 INTEKFEKENCE. 
 
 myself unless I am going out — there is 
 no one to dress for ! " 
 
 " No men^ you mean," amended Miss 
 Dopping, severely. 
 
 " Yes, I do. There is not a man at 
 this side of Ballingoole, except Major 
 Malone and Dr. Doran." 
 
 " And he is an old woman," observed 
 Miss Finny tartly — but naturally the 
 daughter of the late practitioner had 
 but scant mercy on her father's successor. 
 
 " You are a great visitor these times, 
 Mrs. Finny," remarked Miss Doppmg, 
 pomtedly. 
 
 " Well, dear, just once in a way, you 
 know," returned Mrs. Finny apologeti- 
 cally. " Only just once m a way." 
 
 She was a meek little lady, with a 
 pretty, faded face, and a plaintive whine 
 in her voice, totally different from her 
 tall, masculine -looking daughter, who
 
 GOSSIP— (WITHOUT TEA). 23 
 
 had hard features, a square jaw, and a 
 mouth Hke the sHt of a letter-box — and 
 in that mouth a renowned and dreaded 
 tongue — Maria Finny was about forty - 
 iave years of age, embittered agamst all 
 mankind, and the implacable enemy of 
 the young and well-favoured of her own 
 sex. Poor Maria ! In her life there 
 had been but little sunshine, and not 
 one ray of love, or the shadow of a 
 lover. A lono- monotonous tale without 
 a plot, without a hero — she had not even 
 a hobby or a pet, she did not read, 
 paint or write ; she superintended the 
 scanty menage, she ruled her mother, 
 and lived meagrely and discontentedly, 
 an ao'oTieved, soured woman, with an 
 unfulfilled youth, and a bleak, hopeless 
 future ; and yet Maria had ten times 
 more capacity for passionate, unselfish 
 love than brilliant Belle Eedmond with
 
 24 INTERFEEENCE. 
 
 her enchanting smile and sympathetic 
 eyes. Perhaps, if Maria's upper lip had 
 been half an inch shorter, if her mouth 
 had been of more reasonable dimensions, 
 it miofht have made a vast difference in 
 her destiny — who knows ? 
 
 " We thought we would just look in 
 as we were passing," she said, continu- 
 ing her mother's explanation, " and tell 
 Mrs. Redmond the news." 
 
 " Yes," broke in Mrs. Eedmond, with 
 unusual animation. " There is a stir in 
 town, haven't you heard ? " 
 
 " That Peter Brock's daughter is going 
 to America after all ? Of course I 
 know that^^^ replied Miss Dopping con- 
 temptuously. 
 
 "Not at all," said Maria. "Far finer 
 news than about Mary Brock. I met 
 Mrs. Malone driving herself into town 
 in the donkey car ; she seemed quite
 
 GOSSIP— (WITHOUT TEA). 25 
 
 excited, and her face all flushed m 
 patches. She had just had a telegram ; 
 her son, Mr. Holroyd, has come home 
 from India on sick leave, and he has 
 not given her any time to think it over, 
 for he arrives to-night." 
 
 " Delightful ! " ejaculated Belle, drop- 
 ping her paper, and clapping her hands 
 softly. 
 
 " He has not been at Bridgetstown 
 these five years, and then only for a 
 few days," remarked Mrs. Finny. " He 
 and the Major don't get on. l^or stable 
 their horses together." 
 
 " And no wonder," retorted Maria 
 forcibly. " Young Holroyd is a gentle- 
 man, and Major Malone is a gamblmg, 
 greedy, selfish, old bully, and a nice 
 respectable example for his son, Denis, 
 spending half his time on race -courses, 
 betting away every penny, and leaving
 
 26 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 his family paupers. It's no wonder Mrs. 
 Malone's hair falls out, and she looks so 
 heart-broken ! She only keeps three 
 servants now, and sells the vegetables 
 and fruit, and the buttermilk, a penny 
 a can. To my certain knowledge, she 
 has had that brown bonnet this three 
 years, and Cuckoo's boots are a shame 
 and a disgrace." 
 
 '' At any rate, she has only herself to 
 thank," returned Mrs. Redmond, leaning 
 still further back in her chair, and 
 placing two capacious slippers on the 
 fender, where they had a fairly pro- 
 minent effect. 
 
 Seeing Miss Fmny's eyes fastened on 
 them, she said : " Well, yes, Maria, I 
 am not ashamed of them ! My London 
 bootmaker declared that it was a real 
 pleasure to see a foot of a fine natural 
 size ! I know you pride yourself on
 
 GOSSIP— (WITHOUT TEA). 27 
 
 wearing threes, but I call your feet dis- 
 jointed deformities. However, about Mrs. 
 Malone. Holroyd left ber well oif, a 
 pretty widow, with one little boy ; she 
 might have left well alone, instead of 
 marrying a good-for-nothing half-pay 
 major." 
 
 " But you know, dear, he had a 
 splendid property then," protested Mrs. 
 Finny, in a piteous tone. 
 
 " He has no splendid property now," 
 said Maria sharply ; " there will not be 
 an acre for Denis, and serve him right ; 
 an idle young scamp, it's my belief he 
 will never pass for the medical." 
 
 "He is the apple of his mother's 
 eye," drawled Mrs. Redmond. " She 
 slaves for him, and screws for him, 
 and keeps all his scrapes from the 
 Major." 
 
 " And the Major's scrapes from her son
 
 28 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 George," supplemented Maria, with a dis- 
 agreeable giggle. 
 
 ^' Yes, the Major is a sore trial to all 
 that are about him," resumed Mrs. Red- 
 mond. " Xo one is to spend but himself. 
 He must have good dinners and cigars 
 and wine " 
 
 " Whisky, you mean," interrupted Maria 
 with a snort. 
 
 *' Well, whisky," impatiently, " and a 
 high dogcart, and curly-brimmed hats 
 and patent-leather boots, but everyone 
 else may hve on potatoes and salt, and 
 slave for him like niggers, or he roars 
 like a mad tiger, and no one dare say a 
 word." 
 
 " I believe George Holroyd said a good 
 many words to him, the last time he was 
 here," replied Maria, expressively. 
 
 " Yes, and he took it out of George 
 Holroyd's mother, as soon as his back
 
 GOSSIP— (WITHOUT TEA). 29 
 
 was turned," whined Mrs. Finny — who 
 always spoke as if she was on the verge 
 of tears — " and he has spent every penny 
 of her fortune. I can't think how they 
 hve at all ; the poor things I " 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Holroyd helps them," ex- 
 plained Mrs. Kedmond. " Jane BoUand, 
 at the Post Office, has often seen his 
 cheques ; he has a good private mcome, 
 besides his pay." 
 
 " Miss Dopping," said Belle, suddenly 
 addressing the old lady, who sat m grim, 
 observant silence, with her purple gloves, 
 exactly crossed on the Death's - head 
 handle of her umbrella ; '' you are the 
 oldest inhabitant, and know everything ; 
 do tell us all about Mr. Holroyd." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense, Isabella ! you are 
 takmg me for Jane Bolland. Go to her ; 
 she will tell you how many shirts he has 
 to his back, how many cigars he smokes.
 
 30 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 and how mucli he owes his tailor ; only 
 give her time." 
 
 " No, no, I am not thinking of Jane. 
 I want you to tell me — I mean to tell 
 us — what he has a year." 
 
 " HoAY should I know ? " snarled Miss 
 Dopping. 
 
 " A thousand ? " in a coaxing tone. 
 
 " Have you a thousand ? " very gruffly. 
 
 " But indeed, dear, he must have some- 
 thing handsome," pleaded Mrs. Finny, " for 
 he keeps polo ponies and racing ponies 
 in India, and has been very kind to his 
 mother." 
 
 " ]^ow. Miss Dopping," urged Belle 
 boldly, "do be nice to me, do tell me all 
 about him. I am dymg to see him." 
 
 "I'll be bound you are ! " returned the 
 old lady ferociously. 
 
 " How old is he ? " continued her un- 
 daunted questioner.
 
 GOSSIP-(WITHOUT TEA). 31 
 
 " Not much younger than you are your- 
 self," was the brutal reply, " within a 
 year or so of thirty." 
 
 " Oh, you dear old thing ! " cried Belle, 
 with a somewhat dangerous gleam in her 
 eye, but a playful wave of her paper, 
 " you always must have your little joke." 
 
 Miss Doppmg detested Belle's familiar- 
 ities ; she would almost as soon have had 
 her nose pulled as be called " a dear old 
 thmg." She was on the verge of some 
 savage retort, when Mrs. Finny, who was 
 still romantic, exclaimed pathetically : 
 "He is so handsome in his photograph, 
 so dark and soldierly looking — just a 
 darhng fellow." 
 
 " Then he does not take after his dear 
 mamma," sneered Maria. " She is so pale 
 and faded, she always remmds me of a 
 white rat." 
 
 " She has had enough to fade her, poor
 
 S2 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 soul," said Mrs. Redmond. " She lias 
 suffered for her folly. Now I may tell 
 you, without vanity, that m my day, I 
 was a young w^oman of remarkable per- 
 sonal attractions. I was quite a toast, 
 and I was called the ' Lily of Lippen- 
 dale.' " (It required a strong effort of the 
 imagination to suppose that this bulky old 
 lady, with a very sallow complexion, could 
 ever have been the Lily of anywhere.) " I 
 had poems written about me, and people 
 used to wait outside our house to see me 
 pass, and yet, though quite a girlish widow, 
 I would never listen to a second suitor." 
 
 Here Miss Fimiy sniffed mcredulously, 
 and her mother said : "I wonder if Mr. 
 Holroyd will see many changes." 
 
 " To be sure he will," snapped Maria ; 
 " why wouldn't he ? He will see the 
 Major redder and stouter, his mother 
 whiter and thinner. Cuckoo as ugly as
 
 GOSSIP— (WITHOUT TEA). 33 
 
 one of lier own Youno' namesakes, and 
 Denis, an idle ne'er-do-weel, sponging on 
 his family, and playing spoil five in the 
 stables." 
 
 " Don't you find it very cold over 
 there ? " screamed Miss Doppmg, sud- 
 denly addressing a figure in a distant 
 window. 
 
 A girl who w^as ripping some article 
 of dress by the fading daylight, looked 
 up and glanced interrogatively at Mrs. 
 Eedmond. 
 
 " Yes, Betty, my darling, I am sure 
 you cannot see any longer ; you must be 
 perished ; come to the fire." 
 
 In answer to this invitation, Betty 
 approached and stretched a pair of thin 
 red hands towards the blaze. She w^as 
 tall and slender, and had a low, broad 
 forehead, dehcate features, and quantities 
 of bright brown hair. To a superficial 
 
 VOL. I. 3
 
 34 INTERFEllENCE. 
 
 observer, slie was merely a gaunt, pale, 
 shabby girl, who looked both cold and 
 cross, and not to be named in the same 
 year with our pretty, sparkling Belle, who 
 was toasting her toes so comfortably on 
 the fender. But when the sun lit up the 
 golden tints of her magnificent hair ; 
 when the wind gave her white cheeks a 
 wild rose tinge ; when a smile illuminated 
 her fathomless grey eyes, Betty, too, had 
 her admirers. 
 
 '' Mr. Holroyd will be quite a catch," 
 remarked Mrs. Redmond, rubbing her 
 hands complacently, " and those Wilde 
 girls will be sure to ask him over, al- 
 though they have not called on his mother 
 for years. He will show a very poor 
 spirit if he goes near them ; they never 
 ask anyone inside their house except young 
 men ; they are always having ' friends of 
 their brothers,' as they call them, to stay
 
 GOSSIP— (WITHOUT TEA). 35 
 
 at Mantrap Hall, as you have nameJ it, 
 Maria ; and a capital name it is." 
 
 " I wonder if he sings ? " said Belle 
 meditatively. 
 
 " Like his mother," exclaimed Maria, 
 casting up her eyes to the ceiling. 
 
 " I hope not^ poor unfortunate woman ! 
 her sinjT^ino; reminds me of a dof^ ha^in^f 
 at the moon. She ought to be muzzled 
 at the piano." 
 
 Miss Dopping looked as if she thought 
 some one else might as well be muzzled 
 too ! 
 
 " Mother," continued Belle, " we really 
 must have the piano tuned, and must 
 make some smart aprons and caps for 
 Eliza. I shall write to Madame Rosalie 
 by to-night's post. I have not a single 
 decent dress, neither have you." 
 
 " What a stir, and what a fuss about 
 one very ordinary young man ! " growled 
 
 3—2
 
 36 INTERFEEENCE. 
 
 Miss Dopping. " After all lie may be 
 engaged to some girl in India ! " 
 
 " He may," agreed Belle, " but, at 
 any rate, lie is not ordinary, is be, 
 Maria ? " turning a look of tragic ap- 
 peal on Miss Finny, " you have seen 
 him ? " 
 
 " Yes, years ago ; he was nothing very 
 remarkable ; he had nice eyes and a good 
 figure, and looked like a gentleman, which 
 is more than we can say for his step- 
 brother, Denis." 
 
 Maria's verdict was accepted in solemn 
 affirmative silence, and, after a little de- 
 sultory conversation on a less absorbing 
 topic than Mr. Holroyd, the Finnys and 
 Miss Dopping departed into the darkness 
 of a chill N^ovember afternoon at the 
 thirsty hour of ^ve o'clock. 
 
 As they poked their way down the 
 greasy avenue, Maria exclaimed : " What
 
 GOSSIP— (WITHOUT TEA). 37 
 
 a mean old T^'oman ! She had not the 
 heart to offer us a cup of tea. Mark my 
 words, mother, Belle Eedmond will do 
 her best to catch George Holroyd." 
 
 " Why ? What makes you say that, 
 dearie ? " 
 
 " Why ? a child could tell you, and 
 give you twenty reasons," said Miss 
 Fmny contemptuously. " She hates 
 Xoone, and would marry a tinker, to get 
 away from it. She is not as young as 
 she was, and is desperately afraid of 
 bemg an old maid. She adores officers, 
 and would give ten years of her life to 
 go to India. Mr. Holroyd is in the 
 army ; his regiment is in India ; he has 
 private means, and is so to speak ' made 
 to her hand ; ' she will do all in her 
 power to marry him. What do you say, 
 Miss Dopping ? " 
 
 " I say that I hope the Lord will de-
 
 oS INTERFERENCE. 
 
 liver liim," replied the old lady very 
 piously. 
 
 " Amen ! " responded Maria Finny, 
 witli the fervency of a prayer.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE MALOXES OF BRIDGETSTOWX. 
 
 '^ For there's nae luck about the house." 
 
 W. J. MiCKLE. 
 
 Between BridgetstoAYii and Xoone lay 
 Ballino'oole, and the reasonable visitino: 
 distance of one Irisli mile. Bridgetstown 
 was a great, staring white house, with 
 two low wings, that stood familiarly close 
 to the road, although screened from the 
 vulo:ar sraze bv a hio-h hedo-e of im- 
 penetrable laurels. 
 
 According to Major Malone, " the front 
 of the house was at the back," by which 
 truly Irish statement, he meant that all 
 the principal apartments opened south, 
 into a delightful p)leasure-ground, shaded 
 bv hue old trees, brilliant with flowers,
 
 40 INTEKFERENCE. 
 
 and bounded by tlie grey walls of a 
 celebrated garden. No one, driving up 
 to the bleak and rather mean entrance, 
 would believe that the mere act of 
 walkino' across a hall could create such 
 a total transformation of aspect. It was 
 like passing from winter into summer, 
 and exchanging the shores of the White 
 Sea for the Mediterranean. The Bridgets- 
 town pleasure-ground was a notorious 
 sun-trap, the rendezvous of half the bees 
 in the Barony, and the ruination of 
 any delicate complexion. Flowers that 
 drooped and died elsewhere, here blazed 
 forth in flaunting profusion ; invalid cut- 
 tings sprang to health at once, and the 
 frail, fastidious, " Marechal Mel" and 
 " Cloth of Gold," draped the garden 
 entrance as with a yellow mantle. 
 Bridgetstown was a curious anomaly. 
 The great white mansion was out of
 
 THE MALONES OF BRIDGETSTOWN. 41 
 
 •place by the roadside, and the pretty 
 demesne that lay to the right of a long 
 range of walls (enclosing grounds and 
 stable -yards) looked empty and houseless. 
 A noble avenue of limes ran parallel to 
 the garden, and led to no place in par- 
 ticular, and everywhere in general. It 
 seemed as if the house had had a violent 
 quarrel with the park and avenue, and 
 was on the point of quitting the premises. 
 The farms belonging to the property 
 were also scattered over the country in 
 tlie most inconvenient directions, but 
 Major Malone, in his high, red-wheeled 
 dog-cart, made a virtue of inspecting 
 them very frequently ; his care-takers 
 could have told another tale I When his 
 credulous wife supposed him to be 
 making a martyr of himself, and superm- 
 tendmg ploughing, hay-making or thresh- 
 ing, he was generally attending som3 race
 
 42 IXTERFERENCE. 
 
 or coursing meeting, or framing himself 
 in the bow window of the Kildare Street 
 Club. 
 
 Enough of the exterior of Bridgets town. 
 It is a raw November night ; a penetrating 
 drizzle is , descending ; let us go inside, 
 and join the family at dinner. 
 
 A glance is sufficient to show that 
 the house was built in the days when 
 money was no object with the Malones, 
 and when th^re was no struggling for 
 cheap effect. The balustrades are carved 
 oak ; the doors solid mahogany ; the 
 marble chimneypieces works of Italian 
 art ; the furniture, plate, and china were 
 all of the best of their kind, a hundred 
 years ago. True, the china is now 
 cracked ; the plate somewhat battered ; 
 the mahogany a good deal scratched ; 
 the chintz and brocade faded ; but never- 
 theless there is an air of respectability,
 
 THE MALONES OF BRIDGETSTOWN. 43 
 
 a glimmer of the light of other days, 
 lingering about the premises, that fails 
 not to impress all strangers. The dining- 
 room is large and lofty, papered with a 
 dismal flock paper, the very touch of 
 which thrills one to the tips of one's 
 finger nails ; the three windows are 
 decently draped in dark moreen curtains ; 
 a fine fire blazes up the chimney, in 
 front of which blinks '' Boozle," a mon- 
 strous red tom cat, the dearly beloved 
 protege of Major ]\Ialone — a cat with a 
 strong individuality, and considerable 
 sporting rights as to rabbits and young- 
 game. Even the attractive aroma of a 
 hot roast sirloin, does not entice him from 
 the hearthrug — for he has eaten, and is 
 filled with a prime young cock pheasant, 
 and prefers his comfortable and contem- 
 plative attitude beside the fender. 
 
 The dinner table is sc^uare, and is
 
 44 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 lighted up with silver branch candle- 
 sticks ; the forks and spoons are silver, 
 too ; also the dish covers, wine coolers, 
 and flagons ; the tumblers are real cut 
 glass, and the china mostly old Worcester, 
 though here and there eked out with a 
 terrible blue and white Delft plate. 
 There are no flowers to be seen, nor any 
 attempt at table decoration, unless six 
 rather greasy dinner mats come under 
 that denomination. Mrs. Malone, who is 
 head cook, chief butler, upper housemaid, 
 and valet, has no time for such details, 
 and in a family where the master is par- 
 ticular about his shirts, his boots, and, 
 above all, his dinner, and there is a large 
 house to be kept habitable, cows to milk, 
 the door to answer, lamps, fires, and 
 plate to be attended to, the mistress of 
 but three servants must put her shoulder 
 to the wheel. This mistress is a woman
 
 THE MALONES OF ERIDGETSTOWN. 45 
 
 of about eio-ht and forty, and looks much 
 older. She is thin and colourless, and 
 her faded fair hair displays a very wide 
 parting ; her blue eyes are timid to 
 abjectness, her mouth has a pitiful droop, 
 and her once pretty hands are coarse and 
 scarred with manual labour ; she wears a 
 black (cotton) velvet body, and a large 
 pink topaz brooch and eariings, in order 
 to look smart in the eyes of her eldest 
 son. Poor Lucy Holroyd I you thought 
 you had taken a fresh lease of happiness, 
 when you married bluff, handsome, hearty 
 Major Malone. Little did you guess that 
 you were offering your slender shoulders- 
 to a pitiless old man of the sea. Major 
 Malone is still bluff, but no longer either 
 hearty or handsome ; his head is bald^ 
 but he endeavours to disguise the miserable 
 truth, by arranging an effeminately long 
 lock round and round his bare poll, and
 
 43 INTEKFEHENCE. 
 
 affixing it thereto with bandoline — or, it 
 may be, glue. Occasionally, in a liigli 
 T^^ind, or in a moment of intense agitation, 
 this lock has been known to come down, 
 and float wildly in the breeze, like a 
 demented pigtail. To the Major " this 
 lock is wondrous fair," and his most 
 cherished vanity, and he has the impudence 
 to discourse of " bald old fomes " with con- 
 temptuous commiseration. He is dressed 
 in evening clothes, with much care and 
 precision ; wears a flower in his button- 
 hole, and a diamond in his shirt, and is 
 altogether a superior being to his shabby 
 wdfe and daughter. As he deftly carves 
 the sirloin before him, we get an inkling 
 of his true character. For whom are those 
 three laro-e slices from the undercut that 
 he so artfully sets aside, to soak in the 
 gravy ? The remainder he apportions with 
 an impartial hand, and when the undercut
 
 THE MALONES OF BRIDGETSTOWN. 47 
 
 is finished, he turns over tlie joint, and 
 helps his customers from the less tooth- 
 some portion, but he does not dream of 
 sharing those three appetising morsels 
 reserved for his own most particular 
 palate, and it is thus with hhn always ! 
 Whoever goes short, it will not be Tom 
 Malone. Xumber one must have the best 
 of everything. Leaving him to enjoy his 
 dinner, we pass on to his son Denis, a 
 young man of four and twenty, Avho has 
 not thought it worth while to make any 
 change in his dress. Denis is undeniably 
 plain ; even his fond mother — who shuts 
 her eyes to so many things — cannot close 
 them to this fact. He has dark, Aviry, 
 unmanageable hau', deep-set grey eyes, 
 heavy eyebrows, heavy features, a hopeful 
 moustache, and huge ears that stand from 
 his head hke the handles of a jug. When 
 we add that he has a large powerful
 
 43 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 frame, with hands and feet to correspond, 
 that he slouches as he walks, and wears 
 his hat on the back of his head, his por- 
 trait is complete. Denis is clever and 
 has a fair share of brains ; he is one of 
 those birds " who can sing, and won't 
 sing." Whilst others toil along the dreary 
 road of learning, he can skim the ground 
 with comparative ease. He has a taste 
 for mathematics, a taste for surgery, a 
 quick eye, a steady nerve, and a profound 
 faith in Denis Malone ; but he has a still 
 greater taste for singing racy songs of his 
 own composition, for playing " spoil five " 
 and "poker," and brewing whisky punch. 
 However, in spite of his innate idleness 
 and love of loafing and low company, his 
 poor infatuated mother believes that he 
 will be a credit to her yet. " Cuckoo," 
 his sister, is but fourteen ; therefore we 
 will hope that she may improve, and will
 
 THE MALOXES OF BEIDGETSTOWN. 49 
 
 not cruelly epitomise her features ; suffice 
 to say that she is pale, long-legged, and 
 sandy, and characterised by extreme un- 
 reserve, and insatiable curiosity. 
 
 Miss Malone is her mother's right 
 hand, a first-rate household adjutant, but 
 her father and brother's pest ; she acts as 
 revising editor to all their best stories. 
 She knows when Denis is at Kolan's (the 
 nearest public-house), instead of being, as 
 the Major imagines, in bed with toothache. 
 She knows ichy her mother hides the key 
 of the cellar ette, and why her father never 
 opens, but angrily tears up, all communi- 
 cations in certain blue envelopes. In 
 short, she is wise beyond her years. 
 Opposite to Cuckoo sits George, the new 
 arrival, in whose honour are the branch 
 candlesticks, topaz ornaments, and dessert. 
 He is a good-looking young man, with a 
 broad forehead, a pair of very expressive 
 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 eyes, and a carefully cultivated dark 
 moustache, and, but that his aquiline nose 
 is too large for his face (or it may be 
 that his face is too thin for his nose) he 
 would be remarkably handsome ; well- 
 favoured, well-dressed, and well-bred, he 
 makes an effective Valentine to his 
 brother's Orson. In spite of his gallant 
 efforts, conversation languishes ; queries 
 about hunting and shooting fall woefully 
 flat ; his relatives evince but a tepid 
 interest in India, and his homeward 
 voyage ; to tell the truth the Major's 
 great mind is concentrated on his plate. 
 Mrs. Malone's thoughts are distracted by 
 an alarming letter which she received 
 from the family grocer as she came 
 down to dinner, and Denis is wondering 
 how his brother makes his tie, and if he 
 will lend him twenty pounds. Cuckoo, 
 who has the unintelligible desire to talk,
 
 THE MALOXES OF BRIDGETSTO^VN. 51 
 
 common to her sex and years, converses 
 affably for all, and keeps her unhappy 
 mother on thorns, lest she should dis- 
 close too many domestic secrets. Having 
 disposed of her pudding ^vith startling 
 rapidity, she said, as she scraped her 
 plate : 
 
 " ]\Iother made this plum pudding her- 
 self ; she always makes the sweets now. 
 Last Christmas, Eliza, the cook, was 
 drunk ; she sent the pudding up, stuck 
 all over with lighted matches ; it looked 
 so funny ; she drank the whisky ! Once 
 she got at father's whisky, that he keeps 
 
 " There, that will do, Cuckoo," said the 
 Major, sharply. " Hold your tongue ; I 
 wish there was a fly bhster on it." 
 
 By the time the decanters were placed 
 before him, the Major's own tongue was 
 loosened, and he proceeded to discuss the 
 
 4-2
 
 52 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 neighbourliood with considerable anima- 
 tion. Apropos of their own vicinity, he 
 said: " [N^othing but parsons and old 
 women about here now, George I Great 
 changes, you will hardly know any one 
 in the parish. Eh ! what ? what ? " 
 
 He usually concluded his sentence with 
 this query, re]3eated as sharply as a 
 postman's knock. 
 
 " There are the Finnys and Miss Dop- 
 ping," said Mrs. Malone, "and the 
 Wildes of Wildpark, and the Moores of 
 Eoskeen. I don't think you know Mrs. 
 Redmond. She came since you were 
 here last. She has a daughter " 
 
 " I should rather think she had a 
 daughter," interrupted the Major, raptur- 
 ously. " There is not a handsomer girl 
 between this and Dublin. Eh ! what ? 
 what ? " 
 
 *' Girl ! " echoed his wife peevishly. " I
 
 THE MALOXES OE BRIDGETSTOWN. 63 
 
 would scarcely call lier a girl ; she has 
 been m every garrison town m " 
 
 " Come, come, that will do ! " exclaimed 
 the Major rudely. " AYe all know you 
 don't like her. What handsome woman 
 ever is appreciated by the old and ugly 
 of her own sex ? I only wish I was a 
 young man for her sake," and he gulped 
 down a bumper of family port. 
 
 " I'd be sorry to be hanging since she 
 was thirty," muttered Denis, who o-ener- 
 ally sided with his mother. 
 
 " Mrs. Redmond is dreadful," said 
 Cuckoo, bravely, " she drawls out her 
 words as if they cost money, and she is 
 fearfully stingy and mean, she always 
 comes here at meal-time on purpose." 
 
 " Yes, she is a fine old soldier, and 
 knows her way about," admitted the 
 Major. " She never wants much for the 
 asking, from a plough to a pie dish, and
 
 54 INTEEFEREXCE. 
 
 she has a voice that would crack an egg. 
 Eh ! what ? " 
 
 " She came here the other day," con- 
 tinued Cuckoo, volubly ; " mother was 
 cooking, and could not see her, but she 
 and Belle marched in, all the same, and 
 «aid that they would wait for tea. We 
 liappened to have nice hot soda cakes, and 
 Mrs. Redmond calmly took off her gloves 
 -and poured out tea, and ate three but- 
 tered cakes, and pressed them on Belle, 
 just as if she Avas in her own house, 
 ?ind then said, ' Cuckoo, as your mother 
 has a headache, she cannot eat soda 
 cakes ; you have had as many as are 
 good for you, and it is a pity to let 
 them go downstairs, so I shall carry them 
 off.' And she actually made me do them 
 up in paper, and took them home in her 
 ]nuff. Did you ever know such a greedy 
 old thinrr ? "
 
 THE MALOXES OF BRIDGETSTOWN. 55 
 
 " I never knew her match," growled 
 Denis, in his deep voice. " The idea of 
 making? that unfortunate o;irl drao; her 
 about the country in a bath-chair the way 
 she does ; she ought to be prosecuted for 
 cruelty to animals. I^etty is worth a 
 thousand of Belle, with her airs and her 
 eyes, and her humbug. Betty has no non- 
 sense about her, and is as plucky as the 
 devil." 
 
 '* And wJio is Betty ? " enquired George. 
 
 " You might remember her hi old Red- 
 mond's time," replied the Major. " A girl 
 in short frocks, spending her holidays at 
 Xoone — a sort of poor relation. Her 
 mother died when she was an infant, and 
 her father was drowned, trying to save 
 another man's life. She is now a tall sHp 
 of a girl, that comes into a room like a 
 blast of wind, and runs mad over the 
 country, with her dogs and Cuckoo."
 
 5Q INTERFERENCE. 
 
 " She is a beautiful, warm-hearted, 
 young creature," protested Mrs. Malone, 
 with a tinge of colour in her pale face. 
 
 ''Beautiful! Oh, Lord," shouted the 
 Major, derisively. 
 
 " And has two hundred a year of her 
 own," continued his wife 
 
 " Which Mrs. Kedmond saves her the 
 trouble of spending," supplemented Denis 
 in his deep voice, " and makes her go all 
 the messages, and weed the garden, and 
 draw the bath-chair. She is warranted 
 quiet in single harness, spirited but gentle 
 — fine action, mouth, and manners." 
 
 " Betty does not mind," proclaimed 
 Cuckoo ; " she is never happy unless she 
 is busy. George, I am sure you will like 
 Betty." 
 
 " At any rate, she is a pleasant contrast 
 to Belle, who spends half her time in 
 bed, reading novels. And has the devil's
 
 THE MALONES OF BRIDGETSTOAVX. 57 
 
 own temper," remarked Denis in his basso 
 profundo. 
 
 '' Hold your scurrilous tongue, sir," 
 bawled tlie Major. " What the deuce do 
 you know about Miss Redmond ? " Then 
 to George, " She has a fine high spirit, 
 which I must say I admire in a woman " 
 — that is, in a woman outside of his own 
 flimily — '* she has been accustomed to the 
 best society all her life, and to a o^reat 
 deal of attention, and dozens of admirers. 
 She is very gay and lively, and finds it 
 uncommonly slow at Xoone. Poor girl, 
 she says every week seems a year. I tell 
 her if she wants to make the time fly, 
 she has only to draw^ a bill at three months. 
 Eh I what ? what ? She's a deuced 
 pretty creature, and, begad, she and I are 
 uncommonly good friends." 
 
 " She flatters father, that's why he likes 
 her," explained the fearless Cuckoo, as
 
 53 . INTEEFERENCE. 
 
 her motlier rose from table ; and before 
 the Major had time to launch some furious 
 and fitting retort, Cuckoo was already 
 giggling in the hall. 
 
 Bridofetstown was a house with lono^ 
 and windy passages, and Mrs. Malone and 
 her daughter hurried into the drawing- 
 room, whilst the men drew their chairs 
 up to the dining-room fire. The Major 
 lit a cigar, and began to talk " shop " 
 (as a compliment to his step-son), reviv- 
 ing former memories of obsolete drill, and 
 ancient mess anecdotes. George, on his 
 part, assumed a polite interest in the recent 
 autumn meetings and the odds on the 
 Liverpool, and endeavoured to sympathise 
 with the Major's bitter disappointment in 
 " the Blazeaway filly," whom he had 
 backed heavily at Fairyhouse races. 
 Meanwhile Denis yawned, pulled Boozle's 
 tail (thereby causing Boozle to lash it
 
 TUE MALONES OF BRIDCxETSTOWN. 5'J 
 
 about furiously) and, when his father was 
 not looking, helped himself liberally to 
 port. After the Major had related his 
 favourite stock story, about a staff officer, 
 a river and a chest of drawers, George 
 and his brother joined their relatives in 
 the drawing-room, whilst the elder gentle- 
 man adjourned to his own den, to his 
 pipe, his sporting papers, and his betting- 
 book. The drawing-room was cold and 
 cheerless, despite a fire and lamps. Mrs. 
 Malone rarely entered it, save to dust 
 the ornaments, and superintend Cuckoo's 
 practising. In answer to her brother 
 George's request. Cuckoo seated herself 
 before the grand piano with the utmost 
 self-possession, and proceeded to perform 
 a series of the most amazing exploits on 
 the key-board. She thumped the instru- 
 ment as though she had a spite against 
 it — which she had — and clawed it like a
 
 60 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 cat. Meanwhile lier two brothers stood 
 near the fire and Mrs. Malone hemmed 
 handkerchiefs close to a reading lamp. 
 Once or twice she glanced furtively at 
 the pair on the rug. Could they both be 
 her sons ? It seemed strange that that 
 tall young man with his air of distinc- 
 tion, that courteous, scrupulously-dressed 
 stranger, could be brother to Denis, with 
 his round shoulders, wild hair, and rude 
 ways. Their voices were widely different. 
 Denis possessed a deep, uncultivated brogue 
 and inherited his father's bullying delivery. 
 George spoke with a polished English 
 accent. Their manners also were in 
 strong contrast. George stood up when 
 she entered a room, placed a chair for 
 her, and listened to all she said with 
 deferential attention. Denis contradicted 
 her freely and frankly, and would as 
 soon have thought of standing on his
 
 THE MALONES OF BEIDGETSTOWN. (1 
 
 head, as of offering her a seat. She was 
 his mother, and therefore of course devoted 
 to him. It was her business to mend 
 his clothes and liis socks ; fill his purse, 
 and hide his scrapes ; all this was her 
 
 duty, and his ? AA^'ell, he offered her 
 
 his cheek to kiss every morning, when he 
 was at home, and wrote to her regularly 
 " — if lie wanted money — when he was 
 abroad. George resembled his father. 
 Poignant, melancholy memories stole into 
 her mind, as she watched him throuo:h 
 misty eyes — memories long banished by 
 heavy cares, and heavy bills, and selfish 
 domestic tyranny. What a different life 
 hers might have been, had George Hol- 
 royd hved ! 
 
 Cuckoo, who had now brought her 
 performance to a violent end, came o\'er 
 to the fire, and stared expectantly at her 
 elder brother, with a half simpering, half
 
 62 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 impudent expression. " Thank you, 
 Cuckoo," lie said with a dubious smile. 
 
 " Thank you for what ? " she enquired 
 with a giggle. 
 
 " Well, since you ask me, for leaving 
 off." 
 
 "I hate music!" thrusting her bony 
 shoulders out of her frock. 
 
 "So I should imagine ! Mother, won't 
 you sing something ? " 
 
 At this suggestion Denis opened his 
 mouth in amazement, and then burst into 
 a loud and scornful guffaw. 
 
 " For goodness' sake don't ask the 
 mater to sing ; you don't know her voice 
 now ; it's like a cracked fog-horn." 
 
 George turned sharply to his brother, 
 with an angry light in his eyes, but Mrs. 
 Malone interposed hastily : 
 
 " I never sing now ; you forget that I 
 am quite an old woman, my dear
 
 THE MALONES OF BRIDGETSTOWN. 63 
 
 George," and she smiled up into his face 
 a pitiful smile. 
 
 But the little attention had . pleased 
 her ; she had heen a renowned singer in 
 her day. What a pathetically sad little 
 sentence that is to many a woman — " In 
 her day." How short is that day ! 
 How fleetmg — how sojn forgotten by all 
 but herself ! 
 
 " How nicely your clothes fit, Georofe " 
 remarked his sister. '' AVhat a swell you 
 are ! " stroking his coat admiringly. 
 
 George made no reply : he could not 
 return the compliment. Cuckoo's shabby 
 frock was nearly up to her knees, her 
 shoes were white at the toes, and her 
 pigtail was tied with a boot lace. 
 
 " We haye neyer sat here since Aunt 
 Julia was oyer, last spring," continued 
 Cuckoo, as she threw some turf on the 
 fire.
 
 64 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 "• Oh, lias she paid a visit here ? I did 
 not know." 
 
 " I should rather think she has paid 
 a visit — a visitation," rejoined Denis, 
 who was lolling with his hands in his 
 pocket and his eyes half shut — an 
 affectation of indolence being his best 
 substitute for easy self-possession. '' We 
 thought we should have had to go away 
 ourselves to get rid of her. We were 
 afraid that she would be like the man 
 who came with his carpet bag to stay 
 from Saturday till Monday, and remamed 
 for twenty years." 
 
 " She would have gone if she coiild^^'' 
 retorted Cuckoo mysteriously ; glancing 
 at her mother who was holding a parley 
 with some one at the door. 
 
 " What on earth do you mean ? what 
 was to prevent her ? " enquired Denis ; 
 " the road was clear."
 
 THE MALONES OY BRIDGETSTOWN. 65 
 
 " I won't tell you, for you liate Aunt 
 
 Julia, but I'll tell George" — taking him 
 
 firmly by the button-hole, and speaking 
 
 in a whisper. 
 
 George rather mistrusted his gentle 
 
 sister's artless confidences, but there was 
 
 no esca^DC for him. 
 
 " She had no money for her journey ; 
 
 twice she had it sent over, and twice 
 
 mother borrowed it, so she could not get 
 
 away ; she was here three months." 
 
 " Nonsense, Cuckoo," said her unwillmg 
 
 listener, drawing back ; " you should not 
 
 say such things." 
 
 " What has she been telling you ? " 
 
 asked Mrs. Malone, rather anxiously, as 
 
 she resumed her work. 
 
 " Only that we never sit here, mother, 
 
 or have a fire in this room, or dessert, 
 
 or coffee, or wine," continued this 
 
 pleasant child. "It's all on account 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 . INTERFERENCE. 
 
 of you^ G-eorge," giving Mm a playful 
 poke. 
 
 She was excessively proud of her hand- 
 some brother. Mrs. Malone reddened to 
 her liberal parting, and fidgeted uneasily 
 on her chair, and Greorge said : 
 
 " Surely, mother, you are not going 
 to make a stranger of me ? " 
 
 " The fatted calf for the prodigal son ! 
 Eh ! What ? What ? " said Denis, 
 mimicking his father, with a loud un- 
 meaning laugh. 
 
 " Prodigal son ! " screamed Cuckoo. 
 " That's yourself. Do you know the last 
 time he came home, George, he walked 
 the whole way from Dublin ; he was 
 nearly barefoot, and he had pawned " 
 
 " Cuckoo ! " exclaimed her mother 
 authoritatively, "go and see if the passage 
 door is shut ; now go at once." 
 
 Cuckoo and Denis collided in the door-
 
 THE :\L1L0XES OF BEIDGETSTOWN. 67 
 
 way, and left the room together ; and 
 presently voices in angry recrimination, 
 and the sound of a hearty smack, and 
 loud sobs, were heard in the hall ; then 
 a slamming of doors, a roar from the 
 Major's study, and silence. 
 
 5^-2
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 MRS. MALONE OPENS HER MOUTH. 
 
 '* Let the world slide, let the world go ; 
 A fig for care, and a fig for woe ! 
 If I can't pay, why I can owe." 
 
 — Heywood. 
 
 " Mother," said George, after a truly 
 eloquent pause, " wliy don't you send 
 Cuckoo to school ? lier accent is fright- 
 ful, and " 
 
 " I know, I know," interposed Mrs. 
 Malone, laying down her work, with a 
 dismal sigh. " I am afraid she must 
 strike you as ill-mannered and pert ; 
 Julia thought so, too ; but then she told 
 a whole room full of visitors that Julia 
 was coming as soon as she had put in 
 her new teeth ; the child is a great help
 
 MES. MALO^^E OPENS HER MOUTH. 69 
 
 to me in the house, and remarkably open 
 and truthful, as you may notice." 
 
 " Yes, the very densest must admit 
 that^ but the naked truths she introduces 
 so gleefully are not always pleasant 
 additions to a family circle." 
 
 " Perhaps not — perhaps she is too out- 
 spoken ; she ought to go to school. AVe 
 must think it over, but in these hard times, 
 George, I don't know how we are to 
 afford the expense." 
 
 " But I always understood that Major 
 Malone had his land in his own hands." 
 
 " I am sorry to say he has, but farm- 
 ing is not his forte. We are always 
 short of money. I cannot think how it 
 is!" 
 
 She knew but too well how it was. 
 The ready money received for oats, barley, 
 and young stock, went straight into the 
 Major's yawning pockets, and then
 
 70 INTEEFERENCE. 
 
 mysteriously evaporated ! How could 
 she divulge to lier son that his step- 
 father had lost seven hundred pounds 
 at the Curragh, and nearly as much at 
 Cork Park races ; that his wine merchant 
 and tailor were raving for their money ; 
 that the servants were owed a year's 
 wages ; that she blushed to meet the 
 baker's wife, and was afraid to enter the 
 post office. 
 
 " How is Denis getting on, mother ? " 
 asked George, after a pause. 
 
 " I really do not know," she replied 
 with evident reluctance. " Dr. Moran 
 thinks he has abilities ; he is fond of 
 surgery, and you know, ever since he was 
 quite a boy, he has always killed our 
 pigs ; he says himself that his next ex- 
 amination is absurdly easy." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it." 
 
 " You see he has such high spirits,
 
 MES. MALONE OPENS HER MOUTH. 71 
 
 poor fellow," continued liis doting parent, 
 taking up arms for her darling, against 
 somethinD' intanoible in his elder brother's 
 voice. " He is so young and spu^ited. 
 It's hard to be tied down to books and 
 loathsome disecting-rooms, when he is 
 such a splendid shot, and so fond of 
 hunting and fishing. He is very sorry 
 now that he ever decided to be a doctor ; 
 he says he ought to have gone into the 
 army like you." 
 
 "He can still be an army doctor." 
 "So he can," sighed Mrs. Malone, once 
 more resuming her needle. " Well, we 
 must think it over." 
 
 George leant his elbow on the mantel- 
 piece, and looked at her attentively. How 
 different from the golden-haired angel of 
 his childhood ! How aged and thin, and 
 worn she had become during these last 
 five years !
 
 72 INTEKFERENCE. 
 
 " Mother." lie said abruptly, " you are 
 looking ill and worried ; what is the 
 matter ? Have you any trouble on your 
 mind ? " 
 
 " Yes, George, to tell the truth I have ; 
 but I am not going to share it with you. 
 So don't ask me. You have been only 
 too generous — the best of sons — and if I 
 have seen but little of you of late, nor 
 seemed a real mother to you, I have 
 never forgotten you day and night, and 
 when I heard that you were so ill, I 
 cannot tell you what I suffered, or describe 
 my feelings." 
 
 (The Major's feehngs were those of 
 complacent anticipation ; if George died 
 unmarried, his income of ^ve hundred a 
 year lapsed to his mother for her life.) 
 
 " Are you quite sure that the sea 
 voyage has set you up ? And tell me, 
 dear, do you wear flannel next to your
 
 MKS. MALOXE OPENS HER MOUTH. 73 
 
 skin ? " gazing up into his face with an 
 expression of intense anxiety. 
 
 " Do I look like an invalid ? " he re- 
 turned with an evasive smile. " I am as 
 rio-ht as a trivet now. I was well before 
 we reached Suez, ^ever mind me, but 
 tell me all about Denis," and leaning 
 towards her, he said : 
 
 ^* Your trouble is about liim^ is it 
 not ? " 
 
 " George, you must be a wizard. How 
 could you guess ? AYell, you are right ; 
 it is about him. His college expenses 
 are frightful, and his tailor's bill is 
 incredible." 
 
 " I should not have supposed that he 
 spent much on his clothes," remarked his 
 brother gravely. 
 
 " But he does, and there is a long 
 account at his grocer's — he breakfasts in 
 his rooms — for tea and sugar, and
 
 74 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 raisins, and candles — sucli qumitities of 
 candles, but lie will study at night." 
 (Miserable Mrs. Malone! for candles, read 
 wMsky, for sugar, porter, for tea, gin). 
 " I really dare not show them to bis 
 father," and she put a ragged lace hand- 
 kerchief to her eyes, and wept. 
 
 " Perhaps, mother, you had better 
 show them to 77zg," suggested George. 
 
 " No, no, you are far too liberal. You 
 have little enough as it is," she sobbed. 
 " I am past help," casting her thoughts 
 over all their debts, their accumulating 
 debts in Dublin, Ballingoole, and at the 
 county bank. " You might as well try 
 to bale the sea with a tea-spoon as to 
 help me^ 
 
 " But if I may not help my own 
 mother, whom may I help ? " he urged 
 eagerly. " I have been living at a cheap 
 little up country station, where I had no
 
 MRS. MALONE OPEXS HER MOUTH. 75 
 
 way of spending rupees, and I have a 
 good balance at Cox's. I can let you 
 have a cheque fur three hundred pounds 
 at once." 
 
 " Oh, George, I am ashamed to take 
 it," she whimpered, drawing him towards 
 her, and throwmg her arms round his 
 neck. '• You make me feel like a guilty 
 woman ; you make me feel like a thief." 
 
 " Mother, you must never say that to 
 me. Besides, you forget that I brought 
 you home nj presents. I was too hurried 
 to look for things in Bombay, and I am 
 sure you can lay out the money far 
 more sensibly than I should have done, 
 in trashy curiosities." 
 
 (This three hundred pounds was part 
 of a sum that he had set aside for his 
 trip home ; he had had visions of a 
 couple of clever hunters, of renting a 
 small shooting-box, of a round of the
 
 76 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 London theatres, and a trip to Paris and 
 Nice.) 
 
 "Is it true that your Uncle Godfrey 
 is going to make you his heir ? " she 
 asked, as she dried her eyes and 
 brightened up a httle ; "I heard some- 
 thing about it from old Miss Holroyd." 
 
 " No, he offered me a large allowance 
 if I would cut the Service and marry." 
 
 " And what did you say, George ? I 
 hope you promised to think it over." 
 
 " I thanked him, and declined. I have 
 enough for myself. I have no idea of 
 marrying, and I mean to stick to the 
 Service, as long as it will stick to me." 
 
 " If you ever do marry, dear, I hope 
 you will get a good wife. Marriage is 
 a great lottery, and there are many 
 blanks " 
 
 One of these blanks now walked into 
 the room in the shape of Major Malone,
 
 MRS. MALONE OPENS HER MOUTH. 77 
 
 followed by a tray of light refreshments, 
 also by Cuckoo, reel- eyed, but tranquil. 
 
 George poured out a glass of wine, 
 and carried it to bis mother, whilst 
 Cuckoo helped herself generously to 
 macaroons, remarkmg, as she did so : 
 " Denis says that sherry is j9(9/56>?i — 
 eighteen shillmgs a dozen — don't you 
 touch it ; it's only kept for visitors ; we 
 never have supper hke this when we 
 are alone. These are lovely macaroons," 
 speaking with her mouth full. " Cleary, 
 the grocer, grumbled about giving them ; 
 he is owed such a bill, and he says " 
 
 " Cuckoo," roared her father, turnmg 
 on her a countenance charged with fury, 
 " I have told you once before to-night 
 to hold your tongue. Upon my word, 
 Lucy, I believe that gnl is possessed of 
 some devil. I shall pack her off to a 
 reformatory one of these days, I swear
 
 78 INTEEFERENCE 
 
 I shall. As to Cleary, the grocer," now 
 blustering and helping himself to a stiff 
 tumbler of highly -coloured whisky and 
 water, "he is uncommonly proud of my 
 custom, and thankful to have it. It 
 was my father who first set him going, 
 and without the Malones of Bridgets - 
 town he would be in a very poor way." 
 (Thanks to the Malones of Bridget stown, 
 he was in a very poor way.) 
 
 The Major had a notion that trades- 
 people actually considered his orders a 
 high compliment, and fully equivalent 
 to cash, and when he strutted into a 
 shop, be it tailor's, saddler's, or grocer's, 
 he selected largely of the best. He did 
 not comprehend self-denial, nor why he 
 should lack anything that was furnished 
 to men of ten times his means. Yet 
 when creditors timidly ventured to ask 
 for their little account, he considered it
 
 MRS. MALOXE OPENS HER MOUTH. 79 
 
 a most impertinent liberty, as if they 
 were begging for his money. He was 
 not at all sensitive about debt ; be owed 
 bills for years to bis wine merchant and 
 tailor, and had not the most remote 
 intention of paying them. Heady cash 
 could be laid out so much more plea- 
 santly and satisfactorily. Besides, when 
 wine has been drunk, and coats worn 
 threadbare, is it not a cruel hardship to 
 have your immediate attention requested 
 to a very stiff account ? 
 
 Cuckoo took shelter behind the chair 
 of her elder brother, and whispered to 
 him, as she munched her macaroons, that 
 " if anyone ought to be sent to a re- 
 formatory, it was Denis ; he was out 
 now, smoking in the harness room, 
 with Casey, the jockey, and Mooney, the 
 sweep." 
 
 Soon after this refection the family
 
 80 INTERFEEENCE. 
 
 retired to rest. George had the luxury 
 of a fire m his room, and sat before it 
 for a long time, buried in thought. 
 
 What a home this was ! His mother 
 a mere heart-broken household drudge ; 
 his sister a mischievous, razor-tongued 
 little savage ; his brother — he was be- 
 ginning to fear that Denis, of whom 
 his mother had written such glowmg 
 accounts, was neither more nor less 
 than an idle scapegrace ; and, as to 
 Major Malone — he was Major Malone. 
 
 Before the mistress of the house re- 
 moved her unwonted finery, she got an 
 envelope and pencil, and hurriedly jotted 
 do^TL her most pressing debts. The 
 butcher's bill was £209. Would £80 
 stop Mrs. Maccabe's mouth ? The baker 
 was owed £75, and one of Denis' most 
 dangerous creditors was clamouring for 
 a hundred " on the nail." There would
 
 MRS. MALONE OPENS HER MOUTH. 81 
 
 be no margin for Cuckoo's new outfit, 
 nor for the sealskin jacket for herself, 
 at which George had hinted. This three 
 hundred would be a mere drop in the 
 ocean. George must write her a larger 
 cheque. Yes! j)^^^' woman, her finer 
 feelings were blunted by distressing and 
 disgraceful shifts ; the iron entered into 
 her soul when she evaded Miss Bolland, 
 and cringed to Mrs. ]\Iaccabe — terrible 
 Mrs. Maccabe ! George was well off ; 
 he had no ties, and but few expenses ; 
 and, in spite of all her tears and de- 
 precations, she was prepared to despoil 
 her eldest born, to shield and succour 
 Denis. 
 
 " Lucy," said the Major, looking 
 through his dressing-room door, tie in 
 hand, " do you think that fellow would 
 back a bill for me ? Eh ! what ? 
 what ? " 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 82 INTEEFEEENCE. 
 
 " No, indeed, Major, I am certain lie 
 would not," slie returned indignantly. 
 
 " What have you got on that paper 
 there ? Eh, show." 
 
 " Bills ; debts ; we owe so much 
 money that I am ashamed to walk 
 through the town. Cleary, the grocer, 
 sent up to-day, and, as to Mrs. Maccabe, 
 I tremble when I see her." 
 
 " Pooh ! So does everyone ; you are 
 not uncommon in that, the old terma- 
 gant ! I say, is that son of yours 
 going to put his hand in his pocket ? 
 What's the use of a rich fellow like 
 that, if he won't help his mother. Eh ! 
 what ? what ? " 
 
 "He is not rich, far from it ; he 
 believes that I have my jointure of four 
 hundred a year ; he does not know that 
 I sold my life mterest in it years ago." 
 
 " I hope you impressed upon him that
 
 MRS. MALONE OPENS HER MOUTH. 83 
 
 times were bad ; I will go bail you 
 cried ; it's about tlie only tiling you 
 are orood at," lie concluded with a 
 savage sneer. 
 
 " He lias promised me a cheque for 
 three hundred pounds," said Mrs. Malone 
 coldly. 
 
 " By Jove ! then I will go halves ! " 
 
 " No, indeed, it's little, it's not half 
 enough. Do you know that we owe 
 Kane, the baker, seventy-five pounds, 
 and he is a poor man too." 
 
 " Bosh ! I'm a poor man ; let these 
 cormorants wait. They must; debts of 
 honour come first, and I owe Dunne, 
 of Jockey Hall, a hundred pomids, 
 which will have to be paid at once." 
 
 " A bet ? " 
 
 " Yes, a bet," he answered, with a 
 defiant scowl. 
 
 ''Tom Malone," she said, tearing, the 
 
 6-2
 
 84 . INTERFERENCE. 
 
 envelope slowly as she spoke, " do you 
 ever thiiik what my life is ? Do you 
 know how often I wish I were dead ? 
 Do you suppose, if George Holroyd had 
 Hved, that I would be the poor, mean, 
 unhappy wTetch that I am ? " 
 
 " There, don't give me any more of 
 that sort of stuiF ; you know the old 
 proverb. Eh ! what ? Never marry a 
 widow, unless her first husband was 
 hanged, I have no doubt that if George 
 the First was the cool-headed, fastidious, 
 fine gentlemen his son is, he would 
 have been devilish sick of you long ago. 
 Mind one thing, I must have that hun- 
 dred pounds this week ; that chap is 
 well oif, times are hard. Why, I am 
 actually smoking a pipe, and drmking 
 cheap Scotch whisky ! You are his 
 mother, you have a strong claim on 
 him. So don't be afraid of opening
 
 MRS. MALONE OPENS HER MOUTH. ~ 85 ^^ 
 
 your mouth." And with this injunction, 
 he entered his dressing-room and shut 
 the door. 
 
 One scene more before the night closes. 
 Let us take a peep at Belle Kedmond, as 
 she sits over her bedroom fire, ^dth a 
 small lookmg-glass in her hand, carefully 
 examining first her teeth, then her eye- 
 lashes. She has been building fine castles 
 in the air, ever since Juggy, at the lodge ^ 
 amiounced that " a strange gentleman, in 
 a grey ulster, had passed on a hack car,, 
 about six o'clock." 
 
 " He won't come and call to-morrow,"" 
 said Belle to herself. " Xo, but after to- 
 morrow we must always have a good 
 fire m the drawing-room, and I shall 
 wear my brown dress, and see that Ehza 
 is ready to answer the door. Betty must 
 make a cake. Oh, dear, I hope he will 
 be better than that oaf, Denis ! And
 
 86 INTEHFERENCE. 
 
 have some life and go in him, for I shall 
 do my best to marry him, no matter 
 how hideous he is. Another winter here 
 would finish me. I should certainly be 
 fomid hanging from the baluster one fine 
 mornmg. How Eliza would scream ! 
 But she would not cut me down. 'Ro I 
 she hates me," and she smiled at her re- 
 flection in the mirror. " Yes," she said, 
 ^ith a nod to herself, " I am as hand- 
 some and as irresistible as ever. And to 
 this young Holroyd, fresh from dowdy, 
 withered women in India, I shall seem 
 divine." 
 
 Then she laid aside her mirror, and, 
 resting her chm on her hand, gazed into 
 the fire, with an expression of unusual 
 contentment in her dissatisfied dark eyes. 
 Here is an opportunity to sketch Belle's 
 portrait, as she sits thus staring medita- 
 tively mto the red turf sods. She in-
 
 MRS. MALOXE OPENS HER XOUTH. 87 
 
 lierits her dark eyes, lier excitable 
 disposition, and her volcanic spirit, from 
 her grandmother, a French Canadian ; 
 and ever since she was a pretty and 
 precocious — though somewhat sallow — 
 infant, she has absolutely ruled her 
 mother, who never attempted to contra- 
 dict her wishes, nor to restram her 
 unusually fiery temper. What was 
 amusing petulance at three years of 
 age, was ungovernable passion at — well 
 — twenty-nine. For each disastrous love 
 affair, or social disappointment, had 
 served to increase the force of her most 
 prominent characteristic. She made no 
 effort to control her furies before in- 
 feriors, or in the bosom of her family, 
 for she had an idea that, as she was 
 beautiful, she was absolved from being 
 good ! Fortunately these domestic torna- 
 does were of short duration, and, whilst
 
 88 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 the storm raged (and Belle raved, and 
 stamped, and screamed) all the house- 
 hold bent before it, as reeds hi a strong- 
 gale. When it passed over, the frantic 
 madwoman of ten minutes previously, 
 having gained her end, was a kissing, 
 weeping, coaxing slave. Mrs. Redmond 
 spoke of these visitations as " attacks on 
 the nerves," but the servants gave them 
 a totally different interpretation. Belle's 
 scenes were chiefly enacted for the bene- 
 fit of the home circle ; but now and 
 then there had been disagreeable out- 
 breaks in shops, in boardmg-houses, and, 
 above all, at the rehearsals of private 
 theatricals, after which, it had been the 
 painful office of her miserable mother to 
 offer abject apologies, to eat humble pie, 
 and to fly the neighbourhood. Belle \yas 
 undoubtedly out of her element at Noone, 
 a veritable swan upon a turnpike road.
 
 MRS. MALQNE OPENS HER MOUTH. 89. 
 
 She danced admirably, sang delightful 
 little French songs, and acted with such 
 grace and verve and real dramatic feeling, 
 that spiteful people hmted that she was 
 a professional, whose temper had been 
 the bane of her eno-aD^ements. But who 
 wanted piquant chansons, or inimitable 
 acting, m dreary Ballmgoole ? They 
 would have been respectively stigmatised 
 as French trash and tomfoolery ; Belle 
 pined for her former nomadic existence, 
 and detested her present respectable an- 
 chorage. She loved the town and the 
 gay haunts of fashion ; loathed the 
 country, and had a true Frenchwoman's 
 abhorrence of wet fields, muddy roads, 
 strong boots and draggled petticoats. 
 Although she only understood house - 
 keepmg from a lady lodger's point of 
 view, to wit, hashes, cold mutton, and 
 poached eggs, she nevertheless eagerly
 
 90 • INTERFEEENCE. 
 
 seized the reins of government on her 
 arrival at ^N'oone. Her restless spirit and 
 maddening tongue (and, they said, mean 
 ways) soon drove the old servants wild 
 — servants accustomed to unlimited meat, 
 unlimited tea, and unlimited leisure. 
 
 There was one tremendous scene of 
 powerful domestic interest, and they all 
 gave warning, and departed " en massed 
 After this catastrophe, the keys were 
 made over to Betty, who established a 
 new regime — and a great calm. Belle was 
 unspeakably miserable ; she had nothing 
 to do ; no congenial society ; nowhere to 
 display her gay new hats. Far be it 
 from her^ to run after beagles, to gather 
 blackberries, or to visit stupid, narrow- 
 minded old ladies. She spent as much 
 time from home as possible, and, when 
 at Noone, lay novel-reading in bed, or 
 prowled restlessly from room to room.
 
 MRS. MALONE OPENS HER MOUTIL 91 
 
 from window to window, and filled in the 
 weary hours by combing her poodle, 
 writing long letters, and reorganising her 
 wardrobe. Sometimes, in fine weather, 
 she dressed herself carefully, arrayed 
 " Mossoo " in a pink ribbon, and strolled 
 along a road that led to an — alas ! — dis- 
 tant garrison town, on the meagre chance 
 of meeting an officer who might drift 
 thus far to shoot or fish. If she encoun- 
 tered one or two in a s^^orting dog -cart, 
 and if they had stared very hard at the 
 pretty, smartly dressed girl, and her well- 
 trimmed companion. Belle's mission was 
 accomplished ; she was happy for that 
 
 day. 
 
 ***** 
 
 The morning after George Holroyd's 
 arrival, Mrs. Malone had a tearful and 
 pathetic conversation with her son ; and, 
 
 as she sauntered, arm in arm with him.
 
 92 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 round the wintry garden, slie opened her 
 mouth to such an extent, that he was 
 compelled to make his head-quarters at 
 Bridgetstown. There would be no spare 
 cash for clever hunters, a trip abroad, 
 or even a little mixed shooting. Surely 
 Belle Redmond's star was in the ascen- 
 dant.
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 FOXY JOE. 
 
 " I know a trick worth two of that." 
 
 — Henry IV. 
 
 " Joey, Joey, Foxy Joe, I say, liold hard." 
 Thus challenged by Denis Malone, in 
 a ringing brogue, an elderly dwarf, 
 who had been shuffling along a boreen, 
 halted and looked sharply about him. 
 It was at the close of a dull afternoon ; 
 there was more than a hint of frost in 
 the air, and over the marshy lands, at 
 either side of the lane, a thin white mist 
 was rising. To the left, Denis and his 
 step-brother, with guns on their shoulders, 
 were struggling across a bit of bog — to- 
 wards where Joey stood awaiting them. 
 Joey is possibly fifty years of age, and
 
 94 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 not more than four feet in height. He 
 has a long body, and very short legs ; 
 nevertheless, he wears the clothes of a 
 full-grown man ; his frieze coat almost 
 sweeps the ground ; his waistcoat reaches 
 half way to his boots, and his trousers 
 are doubled back to his knees, and there 
 pinned ; long, reddish elf locks fall over 
 his collar, and his little grey eyes look 
 out somewhat vacantly from a pent-house 
 of bushy red brows. However, if not 
 very bright — although Joey's enemies de- 
 clare that he is more of a knave than a 
 fool — at any rate he has wit enough for 
 his business ; he is messenger and post- 
 man to the neighbourhood, and wears a 
 leather bag, slung over his shoulder, as 
 an insignia of his jD^^ofession. In one 
 hand he carries a stout blackthorn, and 
 in the other a plump woodcock. A 
 minute later, George Holroyd was within
 
 FOXY JOE. 95 
 
 easy hail, coming over the wet tussocks 
 with lono; strides : these lonof strides 
 
 CD J O 
 
 suddenly increased to a rapid run, for a 
 deep, wet gripe, with treacherous sides of 
 thick, withered grass, lay between him 
 and Joey. " You'll never do it, Captain 
 darlin','' screamed the dwarf, raismg his 
 
 stick. " It's eighteen foot if it's " 
 
 Before another word left his lips, " Cap- 
 tain darhn' " stood in the boreen beside 
 him. 
 
 " Oh, begorra thin, well lepped ! 
 You're as souple as Pat Kearney's heifer ; 
 he can't keep her out of the potato gar- 
 den, at no price. Is she loaded. Cap- 
 tain ? " pointing to the gun. (N.B., the 
 Irish peasant believes every young officer 
 to be a captain at the very least.) 
 
 " To be sure, she is." 
 
 " An' supposin' she went oiF and shot 
 me?"
 
 96 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 ^' No fear of that, Joey," remarked 
 Denis, who had joined them. " A manni- 
 kin like you would be as hard to hit as 
 a jack snipe, and they are the very devil. 
 We saw nothing else to-day." 
 
 " Well, Avell ; so ye had poor sport, 
 had ye ? It's a bad day for fowling ; 
 what ails the red terrier, Crab ? " 
 
 " I peppered him with l^o. 9 shot, and 
 I want you to carry him home." 
 
 "Is it Crab ? " he returned, in a tone 
 of peevish incredulity. " Faix, Mr. Denis, 
 a lighter job would answer me better ! 
 I'm sorry you did not shoot him all out, 
 when ye went about it ! I've a print of 
 his teeth in the calf of me leg yet. 
 Look at him now, rowling the white of 
 his eye on me, bad cess to him." 
 
 " Well, then, carry my gun ; that won't 
 bite you." 
 
 " Be gor ! I would not touch a shootin'
 
 FOXY JOE. 97 
 
 iron for tlie Pope himself — may be she'd 
 go off in spite of me." 
 
 "What good are you, then?" ex- 
 claimed Denis, angrily. " Afraid of a 
 dog ; afraid of a gun« ; I'll go bail you 
 would not be so nervous if you were 
 asked to carry a quart bottle of whisky." 
 
 " Begorra, yer honour, ye have only to 
 thrij me ! I've just been over at Mr. 
 Blake's. Xow there's a man for ye I 
 He called me in, and gave me a glass 
 of spirits strong enough to take the paint 
 off a hall door. Be gor," his little eyes 
 glistening at the recollection, " to this 
 minute itself, I'm aware of a torch-light 
 procession going down me throat." 
 
 " And what have you got there ? " 
 continued Denis imperiously. 
 
 '• Oh, a terrible fine young woodcock 
 Mr. Blake is sending Mrs. Redmond." 
 
 " Show it here." 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 9S INTERFERENCE. 
 
 Joey tendered it proudly. 
 
 " It's a fine, heavy bird," said Denis, 
 balancing it critically on the palm of his 
 hand. " And it's a mortal sin to give it 
 to an old woman that does not know 
 goose from grouse. Where was it 
 shot ? " 
 
 " By Bresna Wood, I'm thinking — they 
 are m now, but it's over early to be 
 shooting them yet." 
 
 Meanwhile Denis, with the skill of a 
 conjurer, had thrust his hand into his 
 lean game-bag, and dexterously substi- 
 tuted the noble woodcock for a miserable 
 jack snipe, which, as all the Avorld knows, 
 strongly resembles the former in every- 
 thing but size. " Well, Joey, here you 
 are ! " handing him the snipe with im- 
 perturbable countenance. 
 
 " What ! " screamed Joey, surveying 
 it with open-mouthed horror. " What
 
 FOXY JOE. 9U 
 
 devil's trick are you up to novr, Y.r. 
 Denis ? Arrah ! " snatching at it pas- 
 sionately. " Give it back to me here, 
 before you make a icran of it." It was 
 evident that Joey believed that Denis 
 had wrought a spell on the bird, and 
 might possibly develop it so far as to 
 reduce the woodcock to nothino: at all. 
 
 " What's come over it ? " he whim- 
 pered, turning it about in great per- 
 plexity. " What have ye done to it, at 
 all, at all ? Ye ought to be ashamed of 
 yourself, so ye ought ; it's not the 
 weio^ht of a robin red-breast." 
 
 " Then give it to me again, and I'll 
 blow on it, and make it the size of a 
 cock turkey." 
 
 " In troth, and I won't. I know yer 
 too well. Here our roads part," opening 
 a gate that led towards Noone, " and I'll 
 
 be for wishing ye good evening, gentle- 
 
 7-2
 
 100 INTEEFEREXCE. 
 
 men ; gentleman^ I mane," lie muttered 
 to himself as he shambled off, with the 
 jack in his hand. '' Sm^e all the world 
 knows there's only ican in it." 
 
 Denis put down Crab ; leant his gun 
 against the gate, and gave vent to a loud 
 ironical view halloo. " Gone away — gone 
 away — gone away ! " 
 
 An unpleasant reference to Joey's nick- 
 name which Joey deeply resented. He 
 turned back for a moment and shook his 
 stick furiously at Denis, saying : " N'ever 
 fear, me fine fellow, but I'll have it in 
 for ye yet^''' and then plodded on. 
 
 " How that chap does hate me I " 
 remarked Denis complacently, as he 
 shouldered his gun. " I'd like to wring 
 his neck. He is the spy and informer of 
 the whole country." 
 
 "I say, though ! that's rather hard lines 
 about the bird," expostulated his brother,
 
 POXY JOE. 101 
 
 who had lagged behind, to pick up Crab. 
 " What will ^Irs. Redmond think, when 
 she receives a surprisingly minute jack 
 snipe, with Mr. Blake's compliments ? " 
 
 "Oh I I'll take down the woodcock 
 myself this evening, and kill two birds 
 with one st(jne, for I shall see Betty — not 
 to speak of Belle, a belle that no one 
 seems disposed to ring, in spite of her 
 line eyes, smart frocks, and fascinating 
 manners." 
 
 " Talking of manners," said his brother, 
 ''I wish Cuckoo could be sent to school." 
 
 " You may well say so ! she's an aAvful 
 brat. The mother spoils her and gives 
 her her head entirely." 
 
 " She ought to be sent to some good, 
 strict estabhshment without delay." 
 
 " She ought," assented Denis ; " many 
 thmgs ought to be done, if the coin were 
 forthcoming. For mstance, I ought to
 
 102 INTEEFERENCE. 
 
 have been put into the Service — a cavalry 
 regiment for choice — an only son ond 
 heir to a property, instead of being a 
 pill ! " 
 
 "How soon will you take your degree ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I hate the whole 
 thing ; sometimes I think I'll enlist." 
 
 " If I were you, I would stick to my 
 profession, it's a very good one, and now 
 you are four and twenty, Denis, it's time 
 you began to put your hand to the 
 plough." 
 
 " I suppose the mater has been asking 
 you to lecture me, eh ? " said Denis in a 
 surly voice. 
 
 " Xo, indeed, she has not. She has the 
 greatest faith in you, Denis. I am only 
 speaking off my own bat." 
 
 " Then, in that case, please keep your 
 bat out of my affairs. I don't meddle 
 with you, do I ? " he enquired savagely.
 
 FOXY JOE. 103 
 
 *' You have never done anything for me 
 tliat I know of, and have no right to 
 offer your opinion and advice. Advice is 
 cheap." 
 
 " All the same, I intend to toll you 
 that I am very sorry to see you idling 
 about at home, instead of making a starty> 
 and Cuckoo growing up without any 
 education at all," returned his brother 
 firmly. 
 
 " Oh, she is not as bad as you thmk," 
 said Denis m a milder key. It would not 
 suit him to have a row with George. 
 " She does lessons three times a week 
 Avith Betty Redmond ; she and Betty are 
 tremendous pals— and talk of an angel, 
 here she comes I " 
 
 At this moment, a roomy bath-chair, 
 containing a substantial old lady, appeared 
 looming down the road. At first it seemed 
 to be rolling along of its own accord,
 
 104 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 but, on nearer inspection, a black bat was 
 visible (tbough almost concealed by Mrs. 
 Redmond's bonnet, and enormous yellow 
 boa). A slender young girl was the 
 motive power, and pushing behind with 
 might and main. 
 
 It was getting dark, and faces were not 
 seen very distinctly, but when Mrs. Eed- 
 mond came near the two sportsmen, 
 she imperatively called out, " Stop," and 
 w^aved Denis towards her, with her 
 gigantic fur muff. 
 
 " I've just been up to Bridget stown, 
 but I did not see your mother. They 
 said she was out ; however, I went m 
 and sat down, to give Betty a rest. 
 Cuckoo entertained us about — Ah, I sup- 
 pose this is your brother ; it is so dark, 
 Mr. Holroyd, that I am sorry I cannot 
 see you ; but I am delighted to make 
 your acquaintance."
 
 fOXY JOE. 1C5 
 
 Mr. Holroyd muttered indistinctly, and 
 removed his cap. 
 
 '• I am afraid you will find it fright- 
 fully dull here, and so different to military 
 life ! I am devoted to the army, so is my 
 daughter Belle. AVe have many friends 
 in the Service. I hope we shall see a 
 great deal of you ; whenever you are feel- 
 ing at all bored, mmd you come and 
 look us up ! " 
 
 ^Ir. Holroyd declared that he would 
 be charmed to accept Mrs. Redmond's 
 invitation, but that he was sure he 
 would not be at all bored ; he hked 
 the country, and hoped to have some 
 hunting. 
 
 Hitherto no one had noticed the m-1 
 
 o 
 
 behind the chair. The outlme of her 
 features was indistinguishable ; neverthe- 
 less, George had compassion on her, and 
 said :
 
 lOG INTERFERENCE. 
 
 " Is this not rather heavy work ; the 
 roads are so muddy ? " 
 
 " Xot at all ! Not at all ! " rejoined 
 Mrs. Redmond hastily. " It's all down- 
 hill going home, and exercise is capital 
 for young people, especially this kind of 
 exercise, for it brings all the muscles into 
 play, legs and arms alike." 
 
 " But surely it is rather a long distance 
 for one young lady," expostulated George. 
 
 " You ought to have Miss Eedmond 
 posted somewhere on the road as second 
 horse — lay a dak, as they call it in India," 
 suggested Denis facetiously. 
 
 "Pooh ! it's only a mile from gate to 
 gate. Belle would be only too delighted 
 to take her turn, but she is such a little 
 delicate darling, the slightest physical 
 exertion knocks her up at once. For a 
 strong girl it is nothing. Why, at Folke- 
 stone, I used to keep a bath-chair man
 
 FOXY JOE. i 107 
 
 for three hours at a stretch, and Betty 
 has had a long rest." 
 
 " Xevertheless, I hope you will accept 
 me as her substitute, and permit me to 
 convey you home," said George politely. 
 
 "Oh, well, really, Mr. Holroyd," ex- 
 claimed the old lady (divided between 
 dehght at the oifer, and apprehension as 
 to the style of raiment in which her dear 
 Belle might be discovered), "I would 
 not think of it ; no, not on any account." 
 
 "Oh ! but you must. I assure you I 
 will take no refusal, I never take a 
 refusal " (this was an excellent trait, 
 thought the old lady), as he placed his 
 hand on the back of the chair. 
 
 " Here, Denis, you can carry my gun, 
 and Crab will have to walk ; he is more 
 frightened than hurt ; " and before Mrs. 
 Redmond could expostulate, he was rolling 
 her rapidly homewards.
 
 103 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 " Well this is kind," she said. " What 
 a delightful change from Betty ; she does 
 jerk so, and can scarcely get me on at 
 all. I'm sure it is all knack." 
 
 "Knack, indeed," thought her charioteer. 
 "By Jove ! this old woman weighs fifteen 
 stone, and the chair as much as a cab ; 
 unfortunate girl, how her arms must 
 ache ! " 
 
 Meanwhile the unfortunate girl, and 
 Denis, lingered behind, and Denis made 
 over the woodcock, with a short sketch of 
 its history, and roars of laughter. 
 
 " And how do you like him ? " enquired 
 Betty, looking after the bath-chair. " Is 
 he the stuck-up beast you expected ? " 
 
 " Xo, I cannot say that he is stuck-up, 
 but he is rather superfine for Bridgets - 
 town ; he wears silk socks of an evenmg, 
 flies to open the door for the mater, and 
 calls the governor ' Sir.' "
 
 FOXY JOE. loy 
 
 " You must be quite startled at such 
 queer ways," returned the girl, with an 
 irony that was completely lost on her 
 listener. " x\ny thing else ? " she asked 
 blandly. 
 
 " He is shocked at Cuckoo, and no 
 wonder, and he has been trvino- to lecture 
 
 " And no wonder," she echoed ex- 
 pressively. 
 
 " Xow, Betty I " 
 
 " Pray, what was the text of his 
 lecture ? " 
 
 " Hano^in^^ about at home, and you 
 know icho is to blame for that," and he 
 tried to look sentimental, as he peered 
 into her face. 
 
 " Denis, don't be ridiculous ! you are 
 like a dying duck in a thunderstorm. 
 I know Yery well who is to blame for 
 your idleness ; no less a person than
 
 110 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 yourself: you loaf about tlie country 
 with a gun or a rod, when you ought 
 to be earning your living, or learning 
 to earn your living, like another young 
 man. I wonder you are not ashamed of 
 yourself, I know / am ashamed for you." 
 
 " I've a a'ood mind to enlist ! " he 
 exclaimed in a tone of gloomy reso- 
 lution. 
 
 " Well, anvthino: is better than idle- 
 ness," returned Betty cheerfully. '' I 
 would far rather see you a steady private 
 soldier, than a good-for-nothing private 
 gentleman." 
 
 " There's no one, not even my mother, 
 who would dare to speak to me as you 
 do, Betty Redmond." 
 
 " Your mother, poor soul ! I suj)pose 
 not, but as to other people, it's not 
 that they don't dare — they don't care ! 
 Do you imagine that anyone is afraid
 
 FOXY JOE. Ill 
 
 of sucli an insignificant helpless idler as 
 Denis M alone ? " 
 
 " Betty, you have a tongue, and no 
 one suspects it but me I " cried Denis, 
 angrily. 
 
 " Well, I am very glad that it is 
 sharp enough to penetrate your rhinoceros 
 skin. I hope you will take what it says 
 to heart. Xow, I must fly. They are 
 nearly out of sight." And with a 
 gesture of farewell, she ran after the 
 bath -chair. 
 
 Mrs. Redmond talked incessantly as 
 she was trundled along. She discoursed 
 of the dreariness of the country, of her 
 military friends, of her limited means, 
 and of Belle, her beautiful Belle ! 
 Utterly lost in this wilderness — a verit- 
 able pearl among swine — Belle, the orna- 
 ment of countless balls, the admired of 
 all, the cynosure of even royal eyes.
 
 112 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 and yet, in spite of her dull life at 
 Noone, slie was so gay, so contented, 
 the very light of the house ! 
 
 This was satisfactory information, for 
 when they arrived at the hall door, the 
 whole mansion was in outer darkness. 
 Belle was sitting in the study, with a 
 small French poodle in her lap, and 
 three fox terriers stretched out before 
 the fire, in various attitudes of luxurious 
 repose. These latter animals had been 
 the property of the late master of 
 Noone, and actually enjoyed a legacy of 
 -^\e pounds each per annum, for the 
 term of their natural lives — and of 
 course it was Mrs. Kedmond's interest 
 to prolong their days, though she did 
 not care for dogs. Their names were 
 respectively " Brown," " Jones," and 
 " Robinson," and they had each their 
 distinctive characteristics.
 
 FOXY JOE. 113 
 
 " Brown " was stout, elderly, and self- 
 conscious ; lie liked his comforts, such 
 as fire, a regular walk, and a good and 
 punctual dinner. He was a hon virant 
 and did not eat fat or vegetables — an 
 habitue of the kitchen — and slept with 
 the cook. 
 
 " Robinson " was a young and very 
 handsome animal, who was fond of 
 admiration, and ladies and tea ; was 
 particular about his appearance, and had 
 quite a fund of small affectations ; he 
 was a general favourite — even ]\Irs. 
 Eedmond was proud of " Robinson." 
 
 " Jones " was also young and hand- 
 some — white body, black and tan head — 
 a mighty hunter, whose thoughts were 
 centred on sport, and who cared not 
 a straw for the cook — indeed his whole 
 heart was given to Betty. He led a 
 joyous, but by no means ranocent, life, 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 INTERFEKENCE. 
 
 in the woods, and would sit over a 
 rabbit bole for hours, and, when be 
 was in full cbase of poor bunny, bis 
 delighted barks made the plantations to 
 ring. Many a time, he would return 
 late at night, and lay his prey at 
 Betty's feet, gobble down his dimier, 
 stretch his tired, muddy body before 
 the fire, and there hunt in dreams ! 
 
 On this particular evening, all the 
 dogs were at home, " laid out," so to 
 speak, on the hearth-rug, whilst Belle 
 nursed " Mossoo " and devoured a battered 
 novel, by the light of a cheap candle. 
 
 " Mossoo," a pampered, shivering, dis- 
 contented little beast, was adored by 
 his mistress — m fact, she belonged to 
 him — not he to her ! He was washed, 
 trimmed, be -ribboned and caressed, fed 
 on cream and chicken, and dainty dinners, 
 with plenty of gravy. He had no sport-
 
 FOXY JOE. 115 
 
 ing instincts, lie disliked mice, was des- 
 perately afraid of cats and of wetting liis 
 feet, and the other dogs liated liim, as 
 boys in a family invariably Late the pet, 
 the coward, and the sneak. He was 
 accomplished too, degradingly accom- 
 plished ; and as he went through his 
 antics and stood upon his head, " Brown," 
 " Jones," and " Robinson " sat and stared 
 at him with grave and scornful faces, 
 and seemed to glance at one another as 
 much to say : " Did you ever see such a 
 fool ? " 
 
 However, as long as " Mossoo " had 
 fresh cream and a soft pillow, and his 
 mistress's applause and devotion, he was 
 above the opmion of his fellows. 
 
 Suddenly there was an unusual sound, 
 
 a strange voice in the hall ; the dogs 
 
 leapt to their feet, and tore out of the 
 
 room, one yelping, skelping whirlwind. 
 
 8-2
 
 116 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 If Belle had been a man, slie would 
 have used strong language as she capsized 
 " Mossoo," laid down her book, and 
 strained her ears to catch a sound above 
 that maddening din. 
 
 Yes ! a man's voice, and then her 
 mother's. 
 
 " Oh, you must come in, you really 
 must ! and have a glass of our cele- 
 brated rhubarb wine " (celebrated indeed !) 
 
 Belle jumped up. She was in a 
 shabby, old, red tea-gown ; her hair 
 resembled a bottle brush. With great 
 presence of mind she blew out the 
 candle, pushed one or two chairs into 
 their places, flung herself into a luxuriant 
 seat, rather out of the fire-light, and 
 feigned sleep. 
 
 " If mother orders the lamp," she 
 said to herself, "I am lost." 
 _ But luckily her astute old mother
 
 FOXY JOE. 117 
 
 grasped the situation, and wlien, ten 
 minutes later, George Holroyd took 
 leave, he carried away with him the 
 memories of a dim room, a pair of 
 magnificent dark eyes, a ditto of rest- 
 less, small, white hands, and a bewitch- 
 ing smile. It is not certain, that he 
 had not left a minute portion of his 
 heart behind him. At any rate he 
 had promised to return the following 
 day, and bring his music, all his songs, 
 and more especially his duets. His late 
 arrival at home was the subject of 
 much graceful badinage on the part of 
 his brother and sister. 
 
 " Did you see Belle, and was she 
 dressed ? " enquired the latter, capering 
 round him. 
 
 " Of course she was dressed, you 
 little savage." 
 
 " I am surprised to hear it. How I
 
 113 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 wish you had caught her in her old 
 red dressing-gown." 
 
 " Was the chair heavy ? " enquired 
 Denis. 
 
 • " Weighs a ton ; the old lady should 
 really charter a pony or a donkey." 
 
 '' She had a fine donkey to-day and 
 that was yourself," returned Denis with 
 •a grin. " Fancy tooling old Mother 
 Redmond home ! Upon my word, I did 
 not think you were so soft. Eh ! what ? "
 
 CHAPTER Yl. 
 
 DANGEROUS. 
 
 " ' Will you walk into my parlour ? ' 
 Said the spider to the fly." 
 
 Her eldest son's generous cheque had 
 lifted a heavy load of care from Mrs. 
 Malone's bowed shoulders. She had 
 caulked and repaired her sinking credit, 
 with various gratifying sums " on 
 account," and although the Major bullied 
 her out of one hundred pounds, and 
 Denis blarneyed away twenty more, yet 
 she contrived to pay the most pressing 
 village bills and the servants' wages, 
 and to purchase some much-needed 
 garments for Cuckoo and herself. In a 
 new bonnet and gown, she was a com- 
 paratively happy woman, when she
 
 120 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 carried her soldier son round to call on 
 the neighbourhood — on the Mahons of 
 the Glen, the Lynches of Newton-Girly, 
 the Moores of Roskeen, Miss Dopping 
 and the Finnys. Mrs. Finny — who was 
 as much too sweet as her daughter was 
 the reverse — clasped her bony hands, 
 ecstatically, in Mrs. Malone's face, as she 
 welcomed her, and brought a tinge of 
 red into George Holroyd's tanned cheek, 
 by saying : "So good of you, my dear, 
 kmd friend, to bring your handsome son 
 to see us." 
 
 Mrs. Malone's handsome son needed 
 no introduction to Xoone, and was per- 
 fectly competent to find his way there 
 alone ! He had received several cups of 
 tea from the fair hands of Belle — little 
 did he suspect the claws that were at 
 the end of those soft, white fingers — how 
 should he ? Belle was on her best, her
 
 DANGEROUS. 121 
 
 very best behaviour — and be bad luncbed 
 there once, in company with Denis, on 
 rabbit pie, bottled gooseberries, and rhu- 
 barb wine — yet lived to tell the tale ! 
 but on no occasion had he come across 
 the girl who had wheeled the bath-chair. 
 Nor, to be perfectly frank, did he miss 
 her. 
 
 After a long morning's tramp over 
 bogs and marshes, the -dark Xovember 
 afternoons were somewhat difficult to 
 dispose of (a late dinner has its draw- 
 backs), and it was not altogether un- 
 pleasant to stroll across to Xoone, and sit 
 over its drawing-room fire, with a brilliant 
 companion, who always remembered that 
 he took no sugar, and very little cream ; 
 sang tender love songs, and sparkling 
 French chansons, with considerable ex- 
 pression ; told amusing anecdotes with 
 much vivacity and gesticulation, and
 
 1122 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 enrolled him in a kind of delightful, 
 confidential, companionship. 
 
 They knew so many mutual military 
 acquaintances, and military stations, and 
 both were aliens to this monotonous rural 
 existence. Belle was vivacious in ap- 
 preciative company, related malicious 
 tales of her neighbours, flattered him 
 discreetly about his singing and shooting, 
 and told him, with a sigh, that he re- 
 minded her so forcibly of a very great 
 friend of hers, who, she subsequently let 
 fall, was as handsome as a god ! — and 
 yet people said that Belle was not clever 
 and that Betty had ten times her brains. 
 Whilst this merry young couple laughed 
 and talked and sang, Mrs. Eedmond 
 dozed over her knitting, or woke up 
 with a start, to gaze at the animated 
 faces at the tea table, and to watch 
 George Holroyd furtively, with a cun-
 
 DANGEROUS. 123 
 
 ning, predatory glance out of her little 
 yellowish eyes. AVould anything come 
 of this ? she wondered. She was des- 
 j)erately anxious about her daughter's 
 future. At her death Xoone reverted to 
 another branch of the family, and her 
 beautiful, helpless, hot-tempered Belle 
 would be left to face the world with a 
 very scanty income. Her own life, she 
 knew, could not be prolonged. She was 
 in the deadly grip of a fatal malady, 
 and if she could only see Belle well 
 married, she would die happy and with her 
 mind at rest, but Belle was " getting 
 on," and was, alas ! still Miss Redmond. 
 And she bent all her energies to screw- 
 ing and scraping every spare halfpenny, 
 in order to leave her daughter a better 
 provision when she herself had passed 
 away. N'ow and then, she had re- 
 luctantly fitted her out for a short
 
 124 INTEKFERENCE. 
 
 campaign in England, for a tour of 
 what proved to be barren visits, remain- 
 ing herself at Xoone, to count the 
 potatoes and sods of turf, and to subsist 
 on rabbits and herrings. The mere act 
 of putting by one sovereign after another, 
 soon became her keenest pleasure, and 
 the enjoyment grew stronger the more 
 it was indulged in, though she always 
 assured herself that this feverish gathering 
 in of shillings and pound notes had 
 nothing to do with a love of money, but 
 solely with her love of Belle I Belle her- 
 self had no anxieties about her future. 
 She had made up her mind to marry 
 George Holroyd and accompany him to 
 India — her promised land. She was a 
 young woman of some decision where her 
 own interests were concerned, and pos- 
 sessed a considerable fund of tenacity — in 
 spite of which several of her admirers had
 
 DANGEROUS. 125 
 
 detaclied themselves, and escaped ; —and, 
 although she was by no means in love 
 with her new acquaintance, she was 
 enamoured of his profession and his 
 prospects, and her restless spirit yearned 
 for the perpetual changes of scene m- 
 sured to an officer's wife. Visions of 
 gay cantonments, and still gayer hill 
 stations, rose before her mental eye — 
 visions in which she saw herself livino; 
 in a whirl of balls, theatricals, and 
 picnics, the queen of society, the best- 
 looking, best dressed, and most admired 
 of her sex ; with legions of generals, 
 aide-de-camps, yea, and commissioners, 
 figuratively, at her feet. With each 
 visit George paid, these dreams assumed 
 more real and brilhant hues. AVoe, woe, 
 be to the hand that would dispel them, 
 and condemn her to damp dreary Xoone, 
 and the society of the Finny s, and
 
 126 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 Malones, for life — a life that to Belle, 
 with her intense vitality, and quench- 
 less cravino: for excitement, would be 
 simply a living death ! 
 
 George Holroyd was really quite 
 amazed to find Avhat rapid strides he had 
 made in intimacy with the Redmonds. 
 We know how easily the great leviathan 
 may be led, when once a hook is in his 
 nose ! and how simple it is for any 
 idle young man to become entangled in 
 the web of a pretty and experienced flirt. 
 He began to feel almost apologetic and 
 uncomfortable, when his mother re- 
 gularly enquired at dinner " where he 
 had been ? " 
 
 And he replied as punctually : " Over 
 to Noone," or, "I just looked in at 
 Noone," "I had tea at Noone." 
 
 Cuckoo's ill-bred titter, and Denis's 
 wink, were not lost upon him, much
 
 DANGEROUS. 127 
 
 less the Major's ponderous chaff, and 
 constant regret that " he Ts^as not a 
 young man, fur Belle Eedmond's sake." 
 Belle was a pleasant companion for an 
 hour or so, but George was not thinkmg 
 of her as a companion for life. 
 
 He had discovered that she was a 
 young lady that one came to the end of 
 very soon. She was smart, sparkling 
 and pretty ; her animated gestures, and 
 the playful little stamp of her foot, were 
 all very taking in their way ; but she 
 was shallow, restless, and spiteful, and 
 had a singularly foohsh laugh. True that 
 to him she was undeniably sweet — sweet 
 as Turkish delight — but then, with most 
 people, a little of that cloying dainty 
 goes a long way. 
 
 In his guilty heart, this miserable 
 young man knew that he was daily ex- 
 pected to tea at Xoone ; that he already
 
 128 INTEEFERENCE. 
 
 had his own particular chair, and tea 
 cup, and that he had given Belle a 
 quantity of new songs, a belt of his 
 regimental colours, and his photograph 
 in two positions ; but surely, he would 
 argue with himself, she was a sensible 
 girl, and too well accustomed to society 
 and the ways of the world, to suppose 
 that these were more than the most 
 ordinary attentions, and, then, Mrs. Eed- 
 mond had been very civil to hlm^ and 
 given him " carte blanche " to come and 
 shoot rabbits whenever he pleased. Crafty 
 old person ! She sold the rabbits in the 
 town for sevenpence apiece, or hung 
 them in the larder, and saved her 
 butcher's bill. 
 
 To tell the truth, she and Mrs. Maccabe, 
 the butcher's relict and successor in the 
 busmess, were not on very friendly terms. 
 If the Ma] ones' bills were alarmmgly
 
 DANGEROUS. 129 
 
 long, Mrs. Redmond's were pitifully 
 small. 
 
 " A pound and a half of neck chops, is 
 it, ma'am ? " Mrs. Maccale would scream. 
 " Xo, ma'am, not to-day ; you've had 
 chops for the last three months. I sup- 
 pose ye think the shape is made of chojDS, 
 l)ut let me inform you, ma'am, that you 
 are under a mistake. Shape has legs and 
 loins, and fore -quarters ; you can take 
 one of them, or a'o without." 
 
 And then ^Irs. ]\Iaccabe, a powerful, 
 formidable matron, in a large black bon- 
 net, would seize an ox tail, kept for the 
 purpose, and lay about her vigorously 
 among the listening, sniggering street 
 urchins, whilst Mrs. Redmond would stalk 
 back majestically to her bath- chair — and 
 subsequently send a pencilled order for 
 a sheep's head. Mrs. Maccabe was an 
 authority in the town ; even her grown- 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 130 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 up married sons quailed before her tongue 
 and her ox tail, and Maria Finny (her- 
 self a fearless speaker) stood in respectful 
 awe of the butcher's widow. 
 
 ^' One day," to quote that championess, 
 who related the story with virtuous com- 
 placen^cy, " she made a holy show of Miss 
 Finny before the whole street." Maria, 
 on frugal thoughts intent, had stepped in 
 to remonstrate about a bit of gristle which 
 she produced carefully wrapped in paper. 
 " Av course, I know that to please some 
 people bastes must be made without skin, 
 and sinews and bone. Weigh it, Sam ! " 
 shouted Mrs. Maccabe to her son. " One 
 ounce. Cut Miss Maria an ounce of 
 mate ! " 
 
 " There, miss," solemnly presenting it 
 in paper, " I daresay it will serve you 
 for a dmner." 
 
 Maria flung the packet into the middle
 
 DANGEROUS. 131 
 
 of the street, and followed it in a fury, 
 whilst her opponent placed her hands 
 upon her flit sides and shook with wheezy 
 laughter. 
 
 The widow had her good points, of 
 course, or she would have had but few 
 customers, on whom to sharpen her ter- 
 rible tongue. Indeed her poorer patrons 
 did not care a straw for her abuse, and 
 paid her honestly in her own coin, with 
 ruthless and ready answers. She was 
 most charitable in secret, and many a 
 fine chop and steak, and many a strong- 
 bowl of broth, was given away quite on 
 the sly. She was long-suffering to those 
 who were really badly off, a devout Catho- 
 lic, and a liberal contributor to her own 
 Church : besides this, her meat was prime 
 — unsurpassed in the whole provmce — and 
 no better judge of a beast ever stood in 
 a fliir than Bridget Maccabe. As the poor
 
 132 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 innocent animals passed unconsciously 
 before her, she could tell to a pound 
 how they would cut up ! Her purchases 
 AYere young, healthy, and well-fed ; she 
 scorned to deal in tough old, milch 
 cows, and skinny strippers, and boasted 
 that no second-class joint ever hung 
 beneath the sign of " B. Maccabe and 
 Sons." 
 
 During the days in which George Hol- 
 royd had developed so brisk an acquain- 
 tance with Noone, he had never once 
 come across Betty Redmond. She was 
 not kept out of his way in the upper 
 or lower regions (as might be suspected), 
 in case her claims tj attention should 
 clash with those of her cousin. Oh dear, 
 no ! Belle had no sincerer admirer. Betty 
 was her willing drudge : she sewed for 
 her, brought her breakfast in bed, and 
 ran her errands with alacrity. Belle
 
 DANGEROUS. 130 
 
 accepting these services with smiling 
 thanks, and honeyed speeches. Her cheap 
 fascinations secured for her a devoted 
 attendant, and saved her a lady's-maid. 
 
 Betty, who had known Ballingoole, and 
 everyone in the neighbom-hood, all her 
 life, was quite at home in comparison 
 with Mrs. Ptedmond and her daughter. 
 She spent her hohdays there, and looked 
 forward to her visits to Xoone, as if she 
 were gomg direct to an earthly paradise. 
 She loved the country, whether in sum- 
 mer or winter. She loved old " Playboy," 
 the bay hunter who had taught her to 
 ride, and now lay buried at the end of 
 the orchard. She was fond of the dogs, 
 the cart horses, the very cows. 
 
 She was also fond, in a way, of old 
 Uncle Brian, with his goggle eyes, red 
 face, and loud voice, but here her love 
 was somewhat tempered by fear. He set
 
 134 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 lier on horseback when she was seven 
 years old, and flogged old " Playboy," 
 over big fences, in order to teach her to 
 ride like an Irishwoman, and he laughed 
 till the tears ran down his cheeks, when 
 the chestnut filly kicked her off in the 
 lawn, and went away with the best half 
 of her habit. He took her out with him 
 when he went smpe shooting, to make 
 her active and hardy ; nor dare she flinch, 
 before the deepest, blackest bog-drain, and 
 he taught her to play backgammon and 
 cribbage, and swore at her roundly if 
 she made a mistake. " To be afraid of 
 nothing, to speak the truth, and to pull 
 up her stockings," were the injunctions 
 which he enforced on his grand-niece. 
 He left other matters to her instructors 
 at the English school. 
 
 When Betty was sixteen, her Uncle 
 Brian died quite suddenly of apoplexy.
 
 . DANGEROUS. 135 
 
 said to have been induced by a fit of 
 furious passion, and when she returned to 
 Noone, her heart sank within her, for 
 a new mistress was commg, and she 
 expected great changes. The new mis- 
 tress was an Enghshwoman, with a pretty 
 daughter, and both were total strangers 
 to Balhngoole and Betty. 
 
 Betty went mournfully round the place 
 in her new black dress, accompanied by 
 her intimate friends, " Brown," '• Jones," 
 and '• Robinson." There had been an 
 auction of all the stock and out -door 
 effects ; the yard was full of straw, and 
 bits of boxes and newspapers ; the stables, 
 byre, and coach house were empty ; the 
 house itself, how dreary and forlorn ; at 
 every turn she missed old Uncle Brian, 
 with his loud voice and tapping stick, 
 and was very miserable indeed, till Miss 
 Dopping came that afternoon, and carried
 
 136 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 lier away to her own home, and subse- 
 quently to visit the Moores of Eoskeen. 
 
 A week or two later, Mrs. Redmond 
 arrived, inquisitive, astute, agreeable — pre- 
 pared to tolerate Betty, and to tolerate 
 the dogs — and to make a little money 
 out of both ! 
 
 But Betty was a delightful surprise ; 
 a bright, clever, active girl, full of good 
 humour and energy, who knew the ways 
 of the place, and was most useful in the 
 house, and took to Belle — and, what was 
 more important. Belle took to her — im- 
 mediately. 
 
 Far from being set on one side, Betty 
 was an influential personage, and her 
 aunt's domestic viceroy and right hand. 
 She had not been visible at the tea-table, 
 simply because she never partook of after- 
 noon tea. Her Uncle Brian had called it 
 a "kitchen-maid's custom," and she liked
 
 DANGEROUS. 137 
 
 beinof out of doors until it was almost 
 dark. At present she spent all her after- 
 noons with Miss Dopping, who had been 
 laid up with a bad cold ever since her 
 visit to ^oone, and ^Irs. Redmond gladly 
 spared her niece, for two reasons ; firstly, 
 because she did not want her ; secondly, 
 because she had her weather-eye fixed on 
 ^liss Dopping's money bags. The old 
 lady was fond of I>etty, was as wealthy as 
 she was eccentric, and had no near kin. 
 If Betty became a rich heiress, it would 
 be a capital thing for Belle !
 
 CHAPTER y 11. 
 
 ONLY JONES. 
 
 " Some griefs are med'ciuable." 
 
 — Cymbeline. 
 
 George Holroyd had fain to be content 
 with the Ballmgoole Harriers, instead of 
 the Ward- Union and Meath hounds ; his 
 poverty but not his will consented to this 
 pitiable change. However, even Harriers 
 must be followed on horseback, and up 
 to the present, although the Major had 
 been making constant enquiries among his 
 own immediate comiections, and many 
 sporting friends, no suitable steed was 
 secured. A large number of the blind, 
 the maimed, the halt, had been forth- 
 coming, had been submitted for inspec- 
 tion, each and all a dead bargain, each
 
 ONLY JONES. 139 
 
 sold as a personal favour to George, and 
 for no fault, so the Major expressively 
 stated upon what he was pleased to call 
 " his sacred word of honour." George, 
 who rode well, and recognised a decent 
 horse when he saw it, at last grew tired 
 of this force, and said : 
 
 " I always thought that Ireland was 
 the country for 2:ood horses. Where are 
 they ? I never saw such a set of old 
 screws — that one," pointing to a discarded 
 charger, " is like an old hair trunk, and 
 has not a tooth in his head. My bump 
 of veneration would forbid my getting 
 on his back." 
 
 " If you will go to a couple of Iiundred 
 guineas," said the Major (who loved not 
 his step-son), " I'll engage to get you a 
 flyer — a chaser." 
 
 '' Thanks — but sixty is my limit, and 
 as I am a lio-ht-weio-ht I ouo-ht to be
 
 ] 10 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 able to pick up something that will 
 carry me for a couple of months." 
 
 " There was that bay horse of Cooney's 
 — he is cheaj) enough ! You tried him 
 one day with the Harriers." 
 
 " Yes, but I don't care about an 
 animal that expects you to carry his 
 head home, after a very mild day's sport." 
 
 " Well, I believe I know of one, but 
 he is a good way off, that won't ask 
 you to carry his head, but that takehi 
 it and mostly keej)s it. Maybe, he will 
 please you," said the Major huffily ; " he 
 belongs to a tenant of me cousin's, Mick 
 Malone." 
 
 While this independent animal was 
 being looked up, George passed his time 
 in shooting snipe, sunning himself in 
 Miss Kedmond's smiles, and thinning her 
 mother's rabbits. One day, as he was 
 trampmg through the wet woods, accom-
 
 ONLY JONES. lil 
 
 panied by *' lodge " Pat, laden with dead 
 bunnies, he noticed through a glade, 
 what looked like a black figure — the 
 iigure of a Avoman. As any figure Avas 
 an unusual sight in the upper ])lantations, 
 he halted, stared, and finally advanced 
 towards her — a girl in an old Avaterproof 
 and black felt hat, Avith masses of loose 
 broAAai hair, kneeling on the damp moss, 
 and occasionally laying her head on the 
 ground ! " An escaped lunatic ! " Also 
 tAA'o very anxious fox terriers sniffing and 
 yelping and running circles round her. 
 
 " It's Miss Betty," ejaculated Pat, and 
 the sound of his voice made her spring 
 to her feet, and confront them. 
 
 It was ]\Iiss Betty, the bath-chair girl ; 
 and how plain she Avas ! Her hair was 
 tumbling over her shoulders ; her face 
 was deadly Avhite ; her eyes dim and 
 watery with crying ; her nose the colour
 
 142 INTERFERE^'CE. 
 
 of a ripe tomato ; an unbecoming old liat ; 
 a raw Xovember day — of a trutli, Betty 
 Eedmond had never looked worse ! 
 
 " Can I be of any assistance ? Is any- 
 thing the matter ? " enquired George 
 politely, as he doffed his deerstalker. 
 
 " Yes, of course there is ! " she gasped 
 out hysterically. " It's Jones ! He has 
 been in a rabbit-hole since yesterday." 
 
 Mr. Holroyd had never been formally 
 introduced to the dogs ; they were always 
 out with Betty, and he was more than 
 ever confirmed in his first impression. 
 
 " And Aunt Emma does not care, nor 
 feel it one bit," she continued passion- 
 ately. " She says he will come out of 
 himself; perhaps she Avill be sorry when 
 he is dead, and she loses his legacy." 
 
 Strange, he thought, tliat even Maria 
 Finny had never mentioned that Miss 
 Elizabeth Eedmond was out of her mind.
 
 ONLY JONES. 143 
 
 " Do not excite yourself," lie said, 
 sootliino:lY. " It will be all rio'lit, I am 
 sure ; just leave it in my hands, and I 
 will see after liim — if you will only allow 
 me to take you home first." 
 
 Could a professional mad doctor say 
 more ? he thought, with warm self- 
 approval. 
 
 " Go home," she echoed, stamping her 
 foot. " And leave him here to die — he 
 that is so fond of me — that is my very 
 shadow — that loves me better than an}-- 
 thing in the world. AVhat do you think 
 I am made of ? — a block of stone ? No, 
 never. I will stav here till he is brouo^ht 
 out, either dead or alive — if I stay for 
 a week. Well, what are you waitmg 
 for ? If you want to be of some use, 
 you might dig." 
 
 " Sure it's only a dog, sir," explained 
 Pat, as he looked up into his employer's
 
 144 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 sorely perplexed countenance. " It's only 
 Jones, and 'tis himself is a born devil 
 for hunting rabbits, and going to ground 
 like any ferret." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Holroyd, you offered to help ; 
 help nie to dig him out," said the girl, 
 seizing a spade. " I will do anything 
 for you if you will only save him. Pat, I 
 will give you five shillings ! he is choking 
 in there," she went on distractedly. 
 " Listen to his bark, how faint it is, 
 fainter than it was an hour ago. He 
 is dying, I am sure of it." And she 
 burst into fresh tears. 
 
 George Holroyd leant his gun agamst 
 a tree, and promptly took hold of a 
 sjjade, and commenced operations with a 
 will. Beauty in distress must ever appeal 
 to the heart of a young man ; only this 
 was not Beauty — far from it — but Beauty's 
 cousin — besides, George loved dogs, and
 
 ONLY JONESl. '- 145 
 
 lie worked with all his zeal and strength 
 for the sake of the sporting little terrier, 
 whilst Pat laboured and gi'ubbed, and 
 carried out earth with hard horny hands. 
 After twenty minutes' incessant toil, 
 throuoii moss and roots, and frost-bound 
 earth, there was a scream of delight from 
 Betty, and a very dirty, frightened terrier 
 struggled forth, and was clasped instantly 
 in her arms. 
 
 " Oh, you bad, bad dog," she mur- 
 mured ecstatically, as she kissed the top 
 of his head : " how dare you give me 
 such a fright ? What should we have 
 done if you had been lost, and spoiled 
 the set ? You shall be kept in the stable 
 for a week, on bread and water, for 
 this." 
 
 And she set him down to receive the 
 boisterous congratulations of " Brown " 
 and " Robinson." 
 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 146 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 "I don't know how to thank you," 
 she said, now turning to Mr. Holroyd 
 — " nor Pat. — Pat, come up to the house 
 this evening for your ^yq shilhngs." 
 
 " And my reward," enquired George. 
 " I worked twice as hard as Pat ! " 
 Thinking that despite her fiery nose and 
 eyes, she had pretty white teeth and a 
 singularly sweet smile. " You know you 
 said I might have anything I asked for." 
 
 " Oh ! that was in the agonies of the 
 moment ! " 
 
 *' Then you would repudiate your offer. 
 Miss Betty, I am surprised at you ! " 
 
 " Xo, no, I never, as the people here 
 say, ' go back from my word ; ' only I 
 have so little worth offering," now follow- 
 ing haj)py Pat, who slouched along, laden 
 with the gun and rabbits. " I have no 
 possessions of the smallest value, nothing 
 but an old watch that goes for about
 
 . ONLY JONES. 147 
 
 three hours, and a battered locket, that 
 Jones has chewed." 
 
 " Well, I will not enforce my clami 
 nQW. I shall bide my time, and remind 
 you of your promise some day. Perhaps 
 I had better have it down in writing ? " 
 
 ^'Perhaps you had," she answered with 
 a laugh. 
 
 " You appear to be very fond of dogs," 
 he remarked, as he walked beside her. 
 
 " I am indeed. I look upon them almost 
 
 as if they were my relations. I have " 
 
 and she paused. 
 
 " You were gomg to say something," 
 he suggested politely. 
 
 " I have so few relations." 
 
 "Mrs. and Miss Eedmond." 
 
 " Very distant connections by marriage. 
 I have one uncle in India, whom I have 
 never seen ; he is my only near kith 
 or kin." 
 
 10—2
 
 148 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 " Perhaps what you lack in relatives, 
 you make up iii friends ; some people 
 think they are the best of the two." 
 
 " Yes, I am very well off for friends — 
 friends among my school-fellows, and 
 friends over here — there are the Moores 
 of Roskeen, and the Mahon girls, and 
 Miss Dopping, and your sister. Cuckoo."- 
 
 " Miss Dopping and Cuckoo ! What a 
 contrast ; rather a scratch pair, as the 
 Major would say." 
 
 " May be so, but they suit me exactly. 
 Miss Dopping is my house friend, and 
 Cuckoo is my companion out of doors." 
 
 " And have you summer and winter 
 friends, and fine weather and wet weather 
 friends ? " 
 
 " ¥o, I have no fine weather friend ; 
 you don't understand. Miss Doppmg is 
 old and does not go out much. She and 
 I like the same people in books, and we
 
 ONLY JONES. 149 
 
 read and talk over tilings, and slie tells 
 me about old times, and teaches me 
 various matters, and lectures me now and 
 then." 
 
 " Yes, and Cuckoo ? Does she lecture 
 jou and talk about old times ? " 
 
 " Xo, indeed, / lecture her ; we run 
 after the Harriers together, and botanise, 
 and go nutting, and black-berrying." 
 
 George began to think that a walk with 
 this original girl was an agreeable novelty, 
 and was rather sorry to see the garden 
 walls of Xoone looming through the trees. 
 In a narrow path leading from the garden 
 gate, they nearly fell over Lodge Juggy, 
 with her apron very full of something, 
 and if she could be said to blush — she 
 blushed, as she stood right in their way, 
 dropping hurried courtesies. 
 
 " Oh, Juggy," exclaimed Betty, " where 
 are you going ; what have you got there ? "
 
 150 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 ^' Just a lock of old cabbage laves for 
 tbe pig, miss, that Mike was throwing 
 out." 
 
 ^' What small cabbages — they are the 
 shape of potatoes," said Betty, looking 
 steadily at Juggy's apron. 
 
 "Well, there is a couple or so, and I 
 won't deny it, miss, but sure, times is 
 hard, terribly hard. Miss Betty, and you 
 mmd the days when your uncle was alive, 
 when I went to mass on me own ass's 
 car, and kept a couple of pigs ! " 
 
 " And what has happened to you, 
 Juggy ? " enquired George, sympathetic- 
 ally. 
 
 " Well, sir, ever since I offended the 
 Lord and Mrs. Eedmond, I'm in a poor 
 way. Sure, I get nothing out of the gate, 
 but what people give me." 
 
 " And I hope they are liberal," said 
 George, feeling his pocket.
 
 ONLY JONES. 151 
 
 " There does be no quality passing 
 now ; times is changed, but some are not 
 too bad at Christmas. Mrs. Malion puts 
 a flannel j^etticoat on me, and Mrs. Mac- 
 cabe puts a couple of shifts on me, and 
 Miss Dopping puts a pair of boots on me." 
 
 " The Graces attiring Venus," muttered 
 the young man to Betty ; then louder : 
 
 "I hope you will allow me to contri- 
 bute to your toilet," placing five shillings 
 in her ready hand. " Get yourself one 
 or two larger and stronger aprons ; you 
 don't know hoir useful you may find 
 them." 
 
 " The Lord love your handsome face ! " 
 exclaimed Juggy, upon whom the sarcasm 
 was completely lost. " Faix ! it's a real 
 trate to see a gentleman," and, as they 
 passed on, she struck an easy and reflec- 
 tive attitude, and remarked, in a tone of 
 audible approval :
 
 I5w IN lERFERENCE. 
 
 '' Och ! and wouldn't they make a lovely 
 pair ! And wouldn't I go ten miles on me 
 hands and knees to see their wedding ? " 
 
 George could not restrain a smile, at 
 the preposterous idea of coupling him with 
 his present companion. 
 
 "What does she mean about offending 
 Mrs. Kedmond and the Lord ? " he en- 
 quired precipitately — trusting that Juggy's 
 ^compliments had not reached Betty's ears. 
 
 " Oh I it's a long story. She has lived 
 ni the lodge for years, and some of her 
 people are not quite respectable. One of 
 her brothers is a poacher, and another 
 keeps a still. She used to sell his pot- 
 heen on the sly, and I often wondered 
 why she had so many visitors, especially 
 on Sundays, in Uncle Brian's time, for 
 he was an indulgent master, and seemed 
 to think what he called ' Juggy's recep- 
 tions ' a great joke, but last year she
 
 ONLY JONES. 153 
 
 quarrelled with Foxy Joe — you know 
 Foxy Joe ? " 
 
 '' Yes, I am acquainted with him." 
 " Well, I believe they had some dis- 
 pute about money, or whisky, and he 
 informed on her, and told Aunt Emma 
 that she kept a very thriving unlicensed 
 ' public ' at the lodge gate, and so, one 
 day, when Juggy declared that she was 
 dying of rheumatism and cold, and had 
 sent up to her house for port wine and 
 a little jam, Aunt Emma marched down 
 to the lodge, about twelve o'clock at 
 night, and made 7ne go with her. We 
 peeped in at one of the front windows, 
 and saw the whole kitchen lit up. One 
 of the best drawing-room lamps was on 
 the dresser, four silver candlesticks had 
 also been borrowed, as well as glasses, 
 and the family punch-bowl, and Mrs. 
 Redmond's pet claret jug. About fifty
 
 154 INTERFEKEXCE. 
 
 people were sitting round, drinking and 
 smoking, and shouting ' more power.' 
 There was a fiddler on the table, and 
 Juggy herself and the Mahons' groom 
 were dancing a frantic jig in the middle 
 of the floor. When Mrs. Redmond flung 
 the door back and stalked in, perhaps 
 you can imagine the scene, for it is be- 
 yond my power of description." 
 
 " I think I can picture it," said George 
 with a hearty laugh. "Tell me. Miss 
 Betty, how is it that I never see you 
 at Noone ? And do you know that I 
 am over almost every afternojn ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I am aware of that, but I 
 have had other engagements. Have you 
 been thinking that I am a sort of Cin- 
 derella, hidden in the kitchen among the 
 ashes ? " she enquired mischievously. 
 
 " No," he stammered ; but the idea had 
 occurred to him.
 
 ONLY JONES. 155 
 
 " I don't drink five o'clock tea, and I 
 generally go over and sit with Miss Dop- 
 ping, who has been ill ; besides, I know 
 that Belle is a host in herself." 
 
 (She said this in the frank innocence 
 of her heart, and without the faintest 
 arriere pensee.) 
 
 " The more the merrier," returned Georofe, 
 " we shall have your society this evening 
 at any rate." 
 
 " Xo, I think not. I have a message 
 to take for Mrs. Redmond. You sec, 
 Jones has wasted nearly all my day," 
 and she came to a full stop where the 
 pathway led to the avenue. 
 
 " Good-bye, then," he said, '' since you 
 must go, and remember your promise." 
 
 " Yes, I'll remember my promise," she 
 answered gaily. " I am very, very much 
 obliged to you," and she held out her 
 hand.
 
 lo6 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 He took it in his. What a cold, slender, 
 little hand! It gave him a grateful, cor- 
 dial shake, like a hearty schoolboy, and 
 in another second its proprietor had dis- 
 appeared in the deepening dusk. 
 
 And so that was Betty ! who came 
 into a room like a blast of wind, according 
 to Major Malone, and whom his mother 
 had called " a beautiful, warm-hearted, 
 young creature." Well, on the whole, 
 he rather liked her.
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 MISS DOPPING TO THE RESCUE. 
 " A horse, a horse ! My kingdom for a horse." 
 
 " Miss Dopping's cold liad taken a terrible 
 strong hold of her," accordmg to the maid 
 wlio issued bulletins at her hall door, 
 and she sat cowering over the fire m 
 what she called her " museum," wrapped 
 in a woollen shawl, munching liquorice 
 ball, and remindmg herself that she was 
 seventy-five years of age, and could not 
 expect to live for ever ! 
 
 Each afternoon Betty had appeared, 
 escorted by her dogs, all brisk and 
 cheerful, and, whilst Brown ate bis- 
 cuits, and Jones conscientiously drew 
 the room for mice, Betty read aloud.
 
 158 INTERFEKENCE. 
 
 wound worsted, answered letters, and 
 amused her ; but to-day, thanks to 
 Jones's misadventure, there was no 
 Betty, and the old lady was feelmg un- 
 usually low and forlorn. Her drawmg- 
 room (or museum) was a strange apart- 
 ment for an elderly spmster. If you 
 were told that it was the sanctum of a 
 sporting squire, you would not have been 
 surprised, for it was essentially a man's 
 room, from the tanned skins of defunct 
 hunters spread about the floor, the walls 
 covered with brushes, horse shoes, and 
 sporting prints (prints setting forth 
 slender-waisted riders, charging impossible 
 rails on short-tailed thoroughbreds, or 
 spanking coaches-and-four, or flat races) 
 to the venerable old fox-hound, dozing 
 on the rug. 
 
 Miss Sally Dopping came of a very 
 horsey family, and had ruled her father's
 
 3IISS DOPPING TO THE RESCUE. 159 
 
 sporting establisliinent for many years ; 
 
 but he had been cut off by a coachmg 
 
 accident, and her only brother had broken 
 
 his neck in a steeplechase. The Doppings 
 
 generally met their deaths by flood or 
 
 field ; a natural death in a four-poster 
 
 would be an unnatural death to them. 
 
 Miss Sally herself had followed the 
 
 hounds with reckless persistence, in a 
 
 black skirt and scarlet jacket ; delighting 
 
 the male sex, and horrifying their wives 
 
 and daughters, f)r a fox-hunting lady 
 
 was not a common or popular spectacle 
 
 fifty years ago ; but Miss Sally did not 
 
 care a button for the local Mrs. Grundy. 
 
 She swallowed a boAvl of strong broth 
 
 at eight o'clock in the morning, and set 
 
 oft' on her well-bred, rat-tailed hunter, to 
 
 the nearest meet, and enjoyed herself 
 
 vastly. She paid ceremonious visits to 
 
 her neighbours, in her mother's old green
 
 160 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 chariot, and was quite as stiff and snubbj 
 to them as they were to her. Indeed, to 
 tell the truth, they were all afraid to say 
 much to her face — and she feared no one 
 — for Sally had the reputation of havinf^ 
 a high temper, and, it was whispered, 
 had once boxed another lady's ears. She 
 was an old woman now, who had out- 
 lived her generation and her relations, 
 and was never known to lift her hand to 
 mortal, merely contenting herself with 
 speakmg her mind quite plainly, and 
 going her own way. There were no 
 traces of " Galloping Sal " in the wealthy 
 old maid, beyond that she was still an 
 excellent judge of a horse, and had been 
 known, under strong provocation, to rap 
 out a full-bodied oath. Despite her eccen- 
 tricities (which were not a few — she used 
 a toothpick, rarely wore a cap, and had 
 been seen sitting with her feet on the
 
 MISS DOPPIXG TO THE RESCUE. 161 
 
 chimney piece), slie was very popular 
 among' the county people, and in great 
 request at their hospitable houses, and 
 took a far higher social position than 
 miserly Mrs. Redmond, or meek Mrs. 
 Malone, even although she lived in the 
 town ! People said that she and old Brian 
 Redmond had been lovers once, but that 
 they had fallen out over a horse, and 
 that that was the reason of her strong 
 partiality for Betty ; but some people 
 will say anything. 
 
 ^'AVas that Betty's knock ?" she said to 
 herself. 
 
 Xo, " Bachelor " never growled at 
 Betty's step ! It was Maria Finny in 
 a damp waterproof, who, noting from 
 over her bhnd that ]\Iiss Dopping's daily 
 visitor had failed her, ran over to see 
 how she was gettmg on ? 
 
 " Oh, well, I am just getting [on like 
 
 VOL. I. 11
 
 162 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 all of US. You are getting on yourself, 
 Maria." 
 
 " Yes," she admitted, as she removed 
 her cloak, and drew near the hre. " But 
 I am not getting on like Belle Redmond. 
 I should be sorry to be a town's talk like 
 her." 
 
 " The town is always ready to talk. 
 I've a mind to buy a flaxen wig and a 
 pair of pink tights, and give it some- 
 thing to gabble about in earnest. Well, 
 and what has Belle been doing now ? " 
 
 " She has that young Holroyd there 
 every day of his life," returned Maria, 
 who, having a budget of news, was 
 speechfully happy. 
 
 " Pooh, what rubbish ; he has only 
 been here ten days, and, may be, he 
 has nowhere else to go to — or perhaps 
 you expect him to hang up his hat in 
 your hall, Maria."
 
 MISS POPPING TO THE RESCUE. 163 
 
 " Xo, Miss Doppiiig, you know I do 
 not, but lie is a nice gentlemanly young 
 man, and, surely to goodness, you would 
 not like to see liim ruined for life ! He 
 lias been very liberal to bis motlier. Slie 
 ^Yas down tlie street paying bills a few 
 days after be came. I saw ber myself, 
 going into Maccabe's and Casey's, and 
 sbe bas not faced them for montbs." 
 
 " Tben wliy tbe deuce doesn't sbe look 
 after ber son ? Wbat is tbe fool of a 
 woman about ? If be marries, sbe bas 
 seen tbe last of bis money, and most 
 likely tbe last of him.'''' 
 
 " And don't you know Mrs. Malone by 
 tbis time ? " enquired Maria contemp- 
 tuously — " a poor belpless creature, all 
 ber mind is set on making tbings pleasant 
 for Mr. Holroyd, keeping bim and tbe 
 Major on good terms, and bidmg Denis 
 and bis doings from tliem botb." 
 
 11-2
 
 164 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 " Will you tell me one thing, Maria 
 Finny — you know what goes on in the 
 town, if any one does. Since I am con- 
 fined to the house, I am a good deal at 
 the window." 
 
 " You always ar^," interrupted Maria, 
 with her usual acid frankness. Maria 
 neither gave nor accepted quarter. " The 
 song — ' Only a Face at the Window,' 
 was surely made about you." 
 
 " Tell me, Maria, what is Denis doing 
 m Maccabe's ? He is in and out there 
 like a dog in a fair. If it was a public^ I 
 could understand it, but butchers' meat 
 throws me fairly off the scent." 
 
 " Off the scent, are you ? And hasn't 
 Mrs. Maccabe more than beef and mutton 
 in her shop ? Hasn't she a pretty 
 niece : 
 
 " Nonsense, Maria ! hold your blistering, 
 scurrilous tongue," said the old lady.
 
 MISS DOPPING TO THE RESCUE. 165 
 
 pushing her chah* back, with great 
 violence. 
 
 " Tongue, or no tongue, I've an eye in 
 my head," returned Maria undauntedly. 
 " Lizzie is one of your still waters, with 
 her sleek hair, and downcast eyes, and 
 ' yes, Miss Finny,' and ' no. Miss Finny ' 
 — scarcely above her breath. She is as 
 deep as a draw-well. I saw Denis and 
 her walking together in the bog road last 
 Sunday." 
 
 " Then, by my oath, if her aunt knew 
 it, she would just flay her alive," said 
 Miss Dopping, excitedly. 
 
 " I daresay she would ! But never 
 mmd Lizzie just now ; trust me, there 
 will be enough about her by and by, or 
 I am much mistaken. Do you know 
 that the ^lajor is going on with his 
 tricks, and his betting, worse than ever ? 
 Jane Bolland says that he sends as many
 
 ICG INTERFERENCE. 
 
 as six telegrams a clay — and always about 
 racing:. There will be a fine ruction 
 there soon, and George Holroyd will 
 have to support the whole family. If 
 he marries Belle Eedmond, he will have 
 his liands full. When she is in a 
 passion, she is like a madwoman ; she 
 threw a lighted candle at Katey Brady, 
 they say, for spoiling a petticoat, and 
 indeed I think there must be a touch of 
 madness in the family. She is so rest- 
 less, and fond of gay colours, and has 
 the eyes and laugh of a woman who 
 would go out of her mind for very little. 
 I pity George Holroyd." 
 
 " He will never marry her, Maria," 
 rejoined Miss Dopping emphatically. 
 
 ^^ She will marry him, and it comes to 
 the same thing," returned Maria, with 
 great determination. " They have a fire 
 in the drawing-room every day, and she
 
 3riSS DOPPIXG TO THE EESCUE. 167 
 
 wears her best clothes, and walks back 
 with him throiio'h the woods with a 
 shawl over her head, leaning on his arm 
 too ! and is always sending him notes by 
 Foxy Joe. I went over there myself 
 one day, with a collecting card ; of 
 course that was a fool's errand ! but I 
 wanted to see how the land lay, and in- 
 deed," with a sniff of virtuous scorn, " I 
 saw enough ! I wonder if ^Ir. Holroyd 
 knows about tliat officer in the Sky 
 Blues ! " 
 
 " Not he," replied Miss Dopping in her 
 sharpest key. " If he must take a wife 
 from Noone, why does he not take 
 Betty ? " 
 
 " Betty ! that wild slip, running about 
 the country with Cuckoo, after every old 
 fern, and fossil ? " 
 
 " And is it not more respectable than 
 to be running after a young man ? " en-
 
 168 INTERFEKENCE. 
 
 quired the other forcibly. " She is 
 eighteen, she is well educated, and she 
 really is a lady." 
 
 " She is only an awkward slip of a 
 girl ; her eyes and hair are not too bad, 
 but / call her very plain, with her thin 
 cheeks and pasty face." 
 
 " Plain I " echoed Miss Dopping, 
 shrilly. 
 
 " Yes, and what else ? " retorted Maria, 
 stoutly. 
 
 " Just listen to me, Maria. Old Kobert 
 Lynch, who was a terrible man for the 
 ladies in his day, and the best of judges, 
 saw her once, and said that in a year or 
 two, she will be able to give two stone 
 and a beating to any girl in the country. 
 He said he would keep his eye on her." 
 
 " I would not doubt him, the old 
 scamp ! Bob Lynch ought to be 
 thinking of his sins, and of his latter
 
 MISS DOPPIXG TO THE RESCUE. 169 
 
 end, instead of talking trash," said 
 Maria, severely. " However, Betty is not 
 out yet." 
 
 " And when she does come out," re- 
 torted her champion, "you'll find there 
 will be a half-a-dozen young men waiting 
 on the steps to marry her — and so 
 George is at Xoone every day ? " 
 
 " Yes, for hours," replied Miss Finny, 
 in a tone that was almost tragic. 
 
 " Well, I see only two chances for 
 him — and they are either to break his 
 neck, or to run away from that scheming, 
 brazen creature." 
 
 " I know he is asked to Goole for the 
 cock shooting, and to the Kanes' for 
 huntmg," continued ^laria confidentially, 
 " for Jane Bolland noticed the postmarks 
 and crests. It is a o^rand thino; for a 
 young man to come into this part of the 
 world, where bachelors are scarce and
 
 170 INTEEPERENCE. 
 
 girls are in dozens. Mrs. Malone showed 
 me a whole row of notes, waiting for him 
 on the chimneypiece, and really, the first 
 Sunday he was in church, the way the 
 girls flocked round him afterwards — by 
 the way of speaking to his mother — was 
 shameless ! The Rodes, the Lynches, 
 and the Wildes, that scarcely look at her 
 from year's end to year's end." 
 
 " Why does he not go off hunting ? " 
 enquired Miss Dopping. " He must be 
 a queer sort of a molly-coddle of a young 
 man, if that does not tempt him." 
 
 " He has no horse yet ; the Major has 
 been trying to sell him every old screw 
 in the country, but he is too sharp for 
 him and so " 
 
 '' And so he goes over and idles, and 
 risks himself at Koone ; I see. Well, he 
 is a pleasant young fellow, and was very 
 civil, even to an old hag like me, so I'll
 
 MISS DOPPINa TO THE RESCUE. 171 
 
 do my best for him. I will get the 
 Moores to ask him over, and I'll speak 
 a word to the Major ! And now, Maria, 
 that will do for to-day. I am not very 
 strong, and a little of you goes a long 
 way. There is your cloak, there is your 
 umbrella ; good-bye, and don't bang the 
 front -door." 
 
 As soon as the same door had been 
 shut, with a violence that shook the 
 plaster from the ceiling (for Maria 
 was not pleased), Miss Doj)ping hurried 
 over to the seat she always occupied in 
 the window, drew her shawl over her 
 head, and peered into the street. She 
 frequently sat in this nook, watching 
 passers-by, and knocked loudly on the 
 pane at any she specially wished to see, 
 usually — almost always — men. She 
 vastly preferred their society to that of 
 her own sex, and openly gloried in the
 
 172 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 fact. Major Malone, Dr. Doran, Sir 
 Forbes Gould, Lord Mudrath, the Parish 
 Priest, were indiscriminately summoned 
 in from time to time, to have a talk and 
 a glass of good wine — and came right 
 willingly. She was an aggressively hos- 
 pitable old lady. ISTo one was permitted 
 to leave her house without partaking of 
 some refreshment, whether it was port 
 wine and a biscuit, a cup of tea and seed 
 cake, or even a glass of milk ! To 
 refuse was to offend her seriously. The 
 very drivers who brought her visitors on 
 hack cars were sure of a bottle of porter. 
 Eating and drinking was in her opinion, 
 an outward and visible token of inward 
 goodwill. Now she sits in the window, 
 watching for the Major, and here he comes 
 at last, rolling out of the post office. She 
 rapped at him sharply with her knuckles, 
 and soon afterwards his red face, and
 
 MISS DOPPING TO THE EESCUE. 173 
 
 ample waistcoat, presented themselves in 
 the doorway. 
 
 " Sit down, Major," said his hostess 
 effusively, " sit down ; come over near 
 the fire and tell me all the news. You 
 are a great stranger these times, a great 
 stranger." 
 
 " Upon my word. Miss Sally," rubbing 
 his hands briskly, " I haven't a word of 
 news, good or bad. Have you ? " 
 
 " What I and you only just out of the 
 post office ! Oh ! come, come. Have 
 you heard that your step -son is making 
 great running over at Xoone ? How 
 would you like Belle for a daughter-in- 
 law ? " 
 
 " Faith," drawing forth and flourishing 
 a silk handkerchief, " I admire his 
 taste." 
 
 " Well, it's more than I do," said Miss 
 Doppmg acrimoniously ; " an idle, useless.
 
 174 INTEKFERE^XE. 
 
 ornamental liussey, that never gets out of 
 bed till twelve in the day, and that can't 
 do a hand's turn beyond trimming a 
 bonnet, and squalling French songs — and 
 I am not saying anything about her tem- 
 per. However, he has private means and 
 he will want them all " 
 
 "Oh, he is not serious," interrupted 
 the Major, speaking hastily, and with 
 visible alarm. " There is nothing in it, 
 upon my sacred word of honour. Of 
 course, he admires Belle, we all do ; he 
 is not a marrying man ; he has no idea 
 of marrying." 
 
 " But she has, and he is always there, 
 singing and tea -drinking ; more by token 
 he has nothing else to do." 
 
 " I'm after a horse for him, but he is 
 so plaguey hard to please." 
 
 " Yes, he's not to be pleased wdth one 
 of your old garrons ; and let me tell
 
 MISS DOPPING TO THE EESCUE. 175 
 
 you this, Tom Malone, that if you can't 
 put your hand on somethmg better 
 soon, it's a lady's hack he will be 
 wanting." 
 
 "I see," nodding his head several times. 
 "The wmd of the word is enough for 
 Tom Malone. I'll write to my cousin to- 
 night. I don't want the poor fellow to 
 be hooked like that," he added, with a 
 keen sense of favours to come. " I'l 
 
 write Xo, by Jove, as I am near the 
 
 post office, I'll telegraph ! I'll just run 
 over now." 
 
 The Major's rumiing was of course a 
 mere figure of speech, a sort of hurried 
 waddle ; he lost no time and clattered 
 downstairs, and speedily despatched the 
 following message to his cousin, iMike 
 Malone : 
 
 " Eail at once your artillery mare, or 
 Clancy's colt. Leave price to me. Guaran-
 
 176 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 tee satisfaction " ; to wMch an answer 
 came that same evening : " Mare sold, am 
 sending Clancy's colt."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Clancy's colt. 
 
 " His mauliness won every heart.'' 
 
 — ASHLFA'. 
 
 Behold a lovely morning in late Xovember 
 — a morning borrowed from Spring, as 
 bright and sunny as if it had been 
 advanced by tJie liberal month of Ma v. 
 True, that as yet there had been but 
 little frost, that the South uf Ireland is 
 proverbially mild, and the pleasure-gTOund 
 at Bridgetstown a notoriously sheltered 
 and favoured spot. Chrysanthemums — 
 yellow and brown — still braved the nip- 
 ping wintry air. hollyhocks, dahlias, and 
 pale monthly roses as yet held up their 
 heads ; laurels and holly glistened in 
 seasonable irreen, and a o\)ro"eous Vh'oinia 
 
 vol. I. 12
 
 178 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 creeper flaunted along the grey garden 
 wall. 
 
 On such a morning, George Holroyd 
 came whistling across the pleasure-ground 
 in search of his mother. She was ex- 
 tremely fond of flowers, and if hoardmg 
 up shilling to shilling was Mrs. Redmond's 
 passion, and deepest earthly enjoyment, 
 grubbing, transplanting, nursing, and pot- 
 tinof was hers. Georo;e swuno- back the 
 garden gate, till it shivered on its hinges, 
 and beheld his mother, and a tall girl, 
 promenading along the central gravel 
 walk. His mother was leaning ujDon her 
 companion's arm, and carried an earthy 
 trowel in one hand — they were evidently 
 eno^aofed in earnest conversation. On hear- 
 ing the gate slam, they both turned 
 towards him, and could it be possible 
 that his mother's confidante was Betty 
 Eedmond ? For a moment he doubted
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 179 
 
 her identity, so great was the difference 
 between smiles and tears — between a 
 wild rose complexion and a countenance 
 sodden and swollen with crying — between 
 a dull misty afternoon, and a brilliant 
 mornin<T. The sun brouo-ht out the bronze 
 tints of Betty's brown hair, and was 
 reflected in the depths of her deep grey 
 eyes — eyes of that mystic shade, that can 
 be soft with joy or love, brimming with 
 sympathy, dancing with mirth, or dark 
 as night with grief or jealousy. Such 
 eyes are wont to dazzle, and into their 
 depths it is most dangerous for a young 
 man to gaze, unless he would be their 
 slave for life. Luckily for mankind, the 
 power of these eyes was unknown to 
 their possessor ; to her, they were merely 
 a pair of useful organs, that saw well, 
 slept well, and wept well — to the latter 
 George Holroyd could bear testimony. 
 
 12-2
 
 180 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 Betty had discarded lier waterproof, and 
 wore a well-fitting blue serge gown, a 
 black straw sailor's bat, in which was 
 jauntily stuck two bits of scarlet geranium, 
 the very last of the season. She was tall 
 and slight, and as George looked, he 
 ao'reed with his mother — Betty Redmond 
 was beautiful. Hers was a style that 
 bore a searching light, the open air, the 
 bold unflattermg sun. Belle looked best 
 in dim rose -shaded lamphght, or within 
 the circuit of a fire, whose blaze was re- 
 produced in her magnificent dark orbs. 
 Belle was a brilliant hot-house azalea, 
 and Betty a bit of white mountain 
 heather. 
 
 It is true that her nose was not as 
 neatly chiselled as her cousin's, and that 
 her small white teeth were somewhat 
 irregular ; nevertheless Betty was a pretty 
 girl and found great favour in George
 
 CLANCYS COLT. 181 
 
 Holroyd's eyes ; but whether she was a 
 " warm-hearted young creature " he had 
 yet to discover. 
 
 " This is my son, George," explained 
 ^Irs. ^lalone proudly. " George, don't 
 you know Betty ? I mean ]\Iiss Elizabeth 
 Redmond." 
 
 " Yes," replied George. " I have already 
 had tlie pleasure of making her acquain- 
 tance. I helped her to excavate a treasure 
 in the upper wood at Xoone." 
 
 Betty coloured to her brow, for his 
 eyes were looking straight into hers, with 
 an expression that confused and vexed her 
 — an expression of undisguised admiration. 
 
 " I am fortunate in meeting you, Miss 
 Betty," he continued, *' for it strikes me, 
 that we are like the little couple in the 
 weather-glass house : when I am here, you 
 are at Xoone ; when I am at Xoone, you 
 are here."
 
 182 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 " I come over to read with Cuckoo two 
 mornings a week ; w^e take it month 
 about — it is my turn to come to her," 
 returned the girl, looking at him steadily. 
 
 If Mr. Holroyd was going to stare at 
 her in that odd way, she w^ould dislike 
 him extremely. Mr. Holroyd read her 
 haughty young face like a book. What a 
 pretty mouth and chin she had — a pretty 
 mouth that looked as if it could speak 
 proud things ! 
 
 " I wish you would allow me to come 
 and do lessons with you," he returned 
 with a smile. " I am shockingly ignorant, 
 my spelling is shaky, and my geography 
 deplorable." 
 
 " I think it more likely we should 
 learn from you ; you have seen so much 
 of the world, and so many strange places 
 and people, I am sure you could teach 
 us a great deal."
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 183 
 
 " I could teacli you Hindustani and the 
 new sword exercise, and how to load 
 cartrido'es." 
 
 " Ah I I am afraid that jour instruction 
 would be wasted on us," she answered, 
 looking after Mrs. Malone, who had been 
 hurried off to the hotbed by Joe the 
 gardener. 
 
 " May I ask what you are doing ? " he 
 enquired, glancing at a hammer and some 
 pieces of scarlet cloth she held in her hand. 
 " Have you been cutting up the Major's 
 uniform ? " 
 
 '' I have been nailmg up the Cloth of 
 Gold rose, which the wind has blown down ; 
 but you see there are some trails that I 
 could not reach," pointmg to them as she 
 spoke. 
 
 In another instant, George was on the 
 ladder, receiving nails and bits of cloth, and 
 particular directions, gazing down into a
 
 J 84 INTERFERE^^CE. 
 
 pair of beautiful upturned eyes. The full 
 effect of a pair of exquisite upturned eyes 
 must be experienced to be appreciated ! 
 George studied them gravely. Something 
 told him that it was no ordinary maiden 
 who held the ladder ; he must not flirt 
 with this innocent inexperienced girl. No, 
 no ; Honour stood by with her finger on 
 her hps. 
 
 " You seem to know your way about 
 here pretty well," he observed, apropos of 
 Bridgetstown, when they had conversed 
 with frank companionship for some time. 
 
 " Yes, I am quite at home. I have been 
 coming here since I was a little thing. 
 Your mother calls me her eldest daughter." 
 
 " Then I am your brother, of course." 
 
 " No, no, that does not follow by any 
 means ; you are a stranger at Ballingoole." 
 
 " Y^es, I know I am only a mere English- 
 man, but I hope I shall be presented with
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 185 
 
 the freedom of the town. Mrs. Fhiny 
 assures me that I am an honom^ed and dis- 
 tmguished visitor." 
 
 " What would be the good of the freedom 
 of the town ? It is a stagnant Httle place ; 
 we have no excitements ; and you are a 
 soldier — a wanderer on the face of the 
 earth." 
 
 ^' That is true, I am a rolling stone, and 
 don't care much about the moss." 
 
 " You like the life, then ? " 
 
 " Yes, I could not conceive any other ; it 
 suits me down to the ground." 
 
 '' And what will you do when you are 
 what the Major calls ' kicked out ? ' " 
 
 " I am sure I don't know ; loaf round, I 
 suppose, until it is time to die I " 
 
 " And how did you like Mrs. Finny ? " 
 enquired Betty with a sly smile ; " did she 
 made you any sweet speeches ? " 
 
 " She made me hJush ! a thino- I have not
 
 186 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 done for years ! Butter should be applied 
 in small quantities, with a delicate silver 
 knife, and not administered by the half- 
 pound with a trowel. However, it pleased 
 my mother." 
 
 " Only your mother ? " with merry in- 
 credulous eyes. 
 
 " Yes, my sensitive nature, and highly- 
 strung nerves " 
 
 " Your what ? " she interrupted, and 
 they both burst out laughing. Mrs. 
 Malone heard the laugh, at the bottom of 
 the garden — and was delighted to think 
 that her handsome soldier son and her 
 favourite visitor were getting on so well. 
 
 At this instant the garden gate again 
 opened with a clang, and admitted the 
 graceful and vivacious Cuckoo. 
 
 " George ! " she screamed. " Oh ! there 
 you are ; what are you doing up the 
 ladder ? "
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 187 
 
 " Looking for birds' nests, as you may 
 see ! " 
 
 '' Cuckoo I " exclaimed Betty tragically, 
 "it is not possible that you are out in your 
 new shoes ? " 
 
 " Yes, I'm in a hurry. I have some- 
 thing to tell George, something he would 
 like to hear. Only he is so rude that I 
 thmk I shall keep him waiting, marking 
 time, as he calls it. " 
 
 " I rude ! " he echoed ; " my good Cuckoo, 
 you are joking." 
 
 " Yes, you know you called me a little 
 pig only yesterday." 
 
 " But of course I meant a pretty little 
 pig," he rejoined as he carefully selected a 
 nail, and drove it into the wall. " What 
 are your tidings, fairest of the fair ? " 
 
 " A horse has come for you — such a 
 beauty ? " 
 
 " By Jove, you don't say so I " jumping
 
 188 INTEEFERENCE. 
 
 clown as he spoke. " Everything comes to 
 him who waits I " 
 
 "Yes. But I heard the man that 
 brought him telling Knox, not to go 
 near his heels, for he was a born devil, 
 but that the Major wouldn't mind that^ 
 and he winked ; why did he wink, 
 George ? " 
 
 " Where did he come from ? " enquired 
 her brother as eagerly as a boy of ten. 
 "He is not an old friend, is he ? " 
 
 " He came from near Cousin Mick's ; he 
 belongs to a man named Clancy — a tenant 
 of his." 
 
 " Let us go and inspect him, instantly. 
 Miss Kedmond, that is if you care about 
 looking at him ; but any one who is so 
 devoted to dogs must be fond of horses." 
 
 Betty admitted the impeachment, and 
 they hurried towards the house, whilst 
 Cuckoo went shrieking down the garden :
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 189 
 
 " Mother I mother I come and look at 
 George's new horse." 
 
 In a very short time, the TS'hole establish- 
 ment was collected on tlie lawn, surveying 
 the recent arrival, with critical eyes. The 
 ^lajor with his legs very wide apart, and 
 a toothpick in his mouth, carried on a 
 whispered conversation with a pale-faced 
 little man, in extraordmary tight trousers, 
 now holding his head this side, and now 
 on that, like a crow peeping down a marrow 
 bone. 
 
 Every male about the place, from the 
 groom to the message boy, was assembled 
 in solemn conclave, for is not every 
 Irishman born into the world with " an eye 
 for a horse ? " 
 
 The animal under inspection came out 
 of the ordeal nobly. He proved to be 
 young, well-bred, and sound ; a fine up- 
 standing iron grey, five off, with lots of
 
 190 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 bone below the knee, plenty of room for his 
 bellows, and grand quarters. 
 
 And although Sam the groom said, " his 
 colour was against him," and Tom, the 
 message boy, " suspicioned him of a 
 splint," and he had not " sufficient quality" 
 to please Joe the gardener, yet on the 
 whole, the verdict was in his favour, and 
 he was pronounced to be "a shocking 
 fine colt." 
 
 But his price ! Well his price was sur- 
 prisingly low, and was possibly accounted 
 for by his rolling eye, and extremely ani- 
 mated manners. 
 
 According to the little wizened groom 
 who led him (by preference) " he was an 
 outrageous lepper, and could jump a town, 
 was never known to turn his head from 
 anything, and had a cruel turn of speed." 
 
 Being requested to canter him quietly 
 round the lawn, and exhibit his paces, he
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 191 
 
 refused with considerable decision. He de- 
 clared that he had the lumbago so badly he 
 could not sit in a saddle, and had not been 
 on a horse's back for months. 
 
 "Let the gentleman throw a leg across 
 the harse, and try him for himself." 
 
 The gentleman, who was greatly taken 
 with the animal, was nothing loth, and 
 promptly advanced to mount him. 
 
 " Take him aisy, your honour," muttered 
 the groom, as he let down the stirrup 
 leathers. " Take him kindly, he is young, 
 and ye must just flatter him a bit at the 
 first go off." 
 
 But the horse scornfully refused to be taken 
 aisy or flattered. He had been standing 
 for some time, and was possibly cold, and 
 certamly hnpatient ; he had not been 
 ridden for weeks (for reasons known to his 
 groom). 
 
 Consequently when he was mounted and
 
 192 INTEEFERENCE. 
 
 let go, lie lashed out with his heels in a 
 manner that rapidly scattered his admirers, 
 made two vicious buck jumps, and then 
 bolted ; going immediately down the 
 avenue, at the rate of twenty miles an 
 hour. 
 
 " And the gate is shut ! " gasped Mrs. 
 Malone, as she clutched Betty's arm, con- 
 vulsively ; " the gate — the iron gate." 
 
 Betty stood still and held her breath ; 
 they all stood and gazed, in expectation 
 of some horrible catastrophe ; for the 
 avenue gate was over four feet high, 
 with strong spikes along the toj) bar. 
 
 " Thank God," exclaimed Mrs. Malone, 
 breaking a painful silence, as the grey, 
 who had a fall of the ground with him, 
 sailed over it like a deer. 
 
 " At laste he can lep," remarked Sam 
 the groom, wiping the perspiration off 
 his forehead with his sleeve.
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 11^3 
 
 "And where is lie noicV asked the 
 Major ill an angry voice. 
 
 " He is away up the Roskeen Road," 
 shouted Tom, who had swarmed up a 
 tree. " Faix, he nearly did it that time ; 
 he was just into Mrs. Maccabe's cart. 
 Hurroo ! the Captain has got a pull at 
 him, and is taking him across country, 
 he — he has gone slap through Dooley's 
 haggard and potato garden, and begorra, 
 — now, now he is makmg for the 
 canal." 
 
 And with this cheermg announcement, 
 Tom climbed down, declaring that he could 
 see nothing more. 
 
 In less than half-an-hour George and 
 the grey came trotting back, intact, and 
 apparently on the best of terms with one 
 another, although they were both very 
 hot ; the grey had lost two shoes, and 
 his rider his cap. 
 
 VOL. L 13
 
 194 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 '' He has no more mouth than a stone 
 wall," said George as he got oiF. " But 
 he cant fall. He took Dooley's boundary 
 as if it were a cart rut. I've knocked 
 the conceit out of him a bit ; he was 
 heading for the canal, but when he found 
 it was all the same to me, he shut off 
 steam." 
 
 " George, my dear boy, what a terrible 
 horse ! " cried Mrs. Malone. " I was sure 
 you would have been killed, when he 
 went at the gate." 
 
 " Yes, like the old lady I thought that 
 ' every moment would be my next,' till 
 I discovered that he could jump. He is 
 all right, mother, he only wants exercise, 
 there is no fear of me. And I mean to 
 buy him." 
 
 " Your father was a splendid rider, 
 George ; no horse ever conquered him. 
 You take after him, I see." And she
 
 CLAXCY'S COLT. 195 
 
 looked at lier liandsome, eager-eyed son 
 with an air of melancholy pride. 
 
 " What do you say to him, Miss 
 Betty ? " he enquired. " You shall ride 
 him if you like, some of these days, 
 when he is better bitted, and broken." 
 
 '' Betty is a nailer to ride. She'd back 
 anything," volmiteered Denis in his gruff 
 voice. 
 
 "He is not a lady's horse," objected 
 the Major, " though handling and exercise 
 is all he wants. Only for this gout of 
 mme I'd buy him myself, and have him as 
 quiet as a sheep by the end of the week ; 
 it's all hands, su-, hands — and I don't think 
 much of yours. Eh ! what ? what ? " 
 
 The Major was sorely vexed at George's 
 success, and the unmistakable admiration 
 that his riding had evoked, from a noto- 
 riously critical class. The Major himself 
 was no horseman ; a lamentable exhibition 
 
 13-2
 
 196 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 in the saddle ; lie had a capital seat in 
 a dog- cart, that was all. 
 
 Presently, as the cowed and subdued 
 grey was about to be led off to the 
 stable, with drooping head and heaving 
 sides, Cuckoo rushed at the groom ex- 
 citedly, and said : 
 
 " You have not told us his name. 
 What is he called ? " 
 
 " Faix ! the only name I ever heard 
 put on him was Clancy's mad colt, but 
 I believe he was christened ' Scatter 
 Brains,' " replied the little man with a 
 sly smile as he led his charge away, to 
 have a rub down and a feed. 
 
 That evening " Scatter Brains " was 
 purchased by George Holroyd for seventy- 
 five gumeas, and a luckpenny to the 
 groom, who received it, and a glass of 
 whisky, with an expression of intense 
 satisfaction — not to say rehef.
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 197 
 
 " You are not from this part of the 
 world, are you ? " enquired George by 
 way of conversation. 
 
 " Xo, your honour, I was formerly a 
 native of Cork, and I would not tell your 
 honour a lie." 
 
 " And of where are you now a. 
 native ? " 
 
 " Well — I've been at Clancy's this 
 fifteen years. I see you can ride, sir," 
 he continued confidentially. " So I've 
 no shame or fear in telling you, that 
 that horse requires a power of humouring. 
 I've never walked straight since the last 
 time he got shut of me. AVe are not 
 sorry to part with him ; he has a des- 
 perate trick of bolting, and for nothing 
 at all I AVhen you are just walking 
 innocently along the road, he is away 
 with you. He has a terrible bad name, 
 and that's why ye got him chape ; they
 
 198 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 does be all in dread of liim ! But tliere 
 is just wan resource, for a man with 
 nerve, and I'll tell it to you. Pretend 
 you like it — I never could — and that 
 will cure him. When he bolts with 
 hounds (as in course he always does), 
 and mostly lames a couple of dogs, stick 
 in the spurs, and lam into him with a 
 oiew ashplant, until he is fit to drop, just 
 give him his head, and the stick : he could 
 not fall if he tried, and when ye feel him 
 under you, just devouring the ground, 
 ;and greedy to be airing himself over an 
 eighteen foot gripe and double, ye would 
 not grudge three hundred sovereigns ; he 
 is a chaser, that's what he is, and in- 
 valuable to a stout rider, a bold man 
 like yourself — but many and many's the 
 time I thought he would make a ghost 
 of mg." 
 
 " And have you lost your nerve ? "
 
 CLANCY'S COLT. 199 
 
 " Between ourselves, sir," lowering his 
 voice, " I have ; I haven't a pinch left. 
 I've scarcely a whole bone in me skin. 
 I was first a riding boy, and then a 
 jock, and then a breaker-in, and I have 
 had some extraordinary bad falls. "Well, 
 sir, since you are so pressing, I'll take 
 just another tinte of whisky, and wishmg 
 lonty life and p'ood luck to vour honour, 
 and many a] good day on the grey," and 
 so somewhat unsteadily departed.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 
 
 Shortly after his purchase of " Scatter 
 Brams," Mr. Holroyd appeared at a popu- 
 lar meet of the Harriers, got up in unim- 
 peachable boots and breeches, but some- 
 what spoiling the effect, by carrying the 
 prescribed ashplant. He and his mount 
 were critically scanned by the sporting 
 community — who sat ranged along the 
 top of a low wall, bordering the road, 
 and subsequently pursued on foot. 
 
 The grey horse was unanimously ap- 
 proved of, " passed," and pronounced to 
 be a grand one and a goer, and invidious 
 comparisons were audibly drawn between 
 him and an old " Stageen," on which
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 201 
 
 another gentleman was mounted. All at 
 once, a shrill gossoon exclaimed, as if 
 announcing a most portentous discovery : 
 
 " I have it, boys ! May I never ate, 
 bite, or sup, if it isn't Clancy's grey." 
 
 " Clancy's grey," echoed another voice, 
 " that he has been striving to sell this 
 tw^o year and more ! Oh, the poor, in- 
 nocent, young English officer ! " then in 
 a louder key to George, " Don't be riding 
 too far from a churchyard, yer honour ! " 
 
 " Is there a doctor out the day ? " 
 enquired a third pleasantly. 
 
 " Mother av Moses ! w^hy didn't ye 
 bring your coffin with ye ? " 
 
 So far " Clancy " (as he was called, 
 the other name being too suggestive) had 
 been behavmg amazingly well, merely 
 snorting and glaring and prancing ; even 
 as they trotted up the soft green fields 
 to draw the furrows, he only moved as
 
 202 INTERFEREN"CE. 
 
 if stej)ping upon hot bricks, with now 
 and then a sidle and a squeal. But once 
 the hare was found, and there was a 
 bustle, and a rush forward at a narrow 
 razor bank, with a big gripe on the near 
 side, he cocked his ears, and practically 
 took leave of the field, as if he had ur- 
 gent private affairs, going at racing pace, 
 and carrying his rider over it before he 
 had time to breathe. He soon outpaced 
 the furious huntsman, and the fleeting 
 hounds, lastly the hare, and w^as making 
 with all speed for his stable at Bridgets - 
 town. He jumped very big, and ap- 
 peared to know all about it, and as the 
 fences seemed sound, George sat down in 
 his saddle, and let him have it with the 
 ashplant ! A wilder career was seldom 
 seen. " Clancy " tore along like a thing 
 possessed, flying over hedges, till they 
 seemed to Avhizz past. Once or twice,
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO COXQUESTS. 203 
 
 he landed on his nose, but struggled up 
 in a second, and was going again as hard 
 as ever. Cuckoo, Betty, and Denis, 
 posted on a neighbouring hill, with an 
 old red spy-glass, watched his headlong 
 course, with breathless interest. 
 
 " There he is in Hourrigan's land, and 
 now he is over Murphy's boundary," 
 shouted Denis slapping his leg ; " that 
 horse would win the Liverpool if he was 
 put in training ! — why, he is making for 
 those boggy fields near the canal. He 
 had better mind himself. Whew ! there 
 he goes in plump, that will cook his 
 goose, and unless I am much mistaken, 
 he will lay down his knife and fork ! " 
 
 George had been prepared for this 
 emergency, and had taken his feet out of 
 the stirrups, and when his somewhat 
 blown hunter skimmed a low bank, and 
 landed in what looked like beautiful
 
 204 INTEEFERENCE. 
 
 green grass, but was really soft treach- 
 erous bog, be was off bis back in an 
 instant. " Clancy " struggled madly, 
 snorted and panted with fear, but the 
 more he struggled the deeper he sank ; 
 in a very short time he was up to his 
 girths. " You want a lesson, my friend," 
 remarked his master, calmly lighting a 
 cigarette. " A nice condition my boots 
 are in ! You must learn that this un- 
 pleasant state of affairs is the natural 
 result of running away, and that it is 
 my turn now." 
 
 At length, when the grey was com- 
 pletely exhausted, and had subsided so 
 much that his situation began to be a 
 little precarious, his owner had com- 
 passion on him, and he and Denis, and 
 a couple of labouring men, with ropes, 
 helped him out, a shameful, pitiful spec- 
 tacle, a black horse with a grey head I
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 205 
 
 He appeared to feel his position very 
 keenly, skulking home along the edge 
 of the roads with his tail tucked between 
 his legs, as if saymg to the hedges, 
 " Hide me ! " 
 
 After this experience, " Clancy " be- 
 came a comparatively reformed character, 
 and merely amused himself with prancing, 
 and plunging at the meets, and sub- 
 sequently making an example of the 
 w^hole field. 
 
 The ]\Iajor discovered, to his intense 
 disgust, that his stepson had got a won- 
 derful bargain — a prize he was resolved 
 to secure for himself on that young man's 
 departure. " Clancy " was well aware 
 that his new owner was a strong bold 
 rider, who was his master ; and, although 
 he was by no means a mount for a timid, 
 elderly gentleman, he was a momit for a 
 brave young lady, and Miss Dopping's old
 
 206 INTERFEEENCE. 
 
 face lit up with keen delight, when she 
 saw Betty Redmond, sitting squarely on 
 the grey, as he clattered up the town, 
 escorted by George on the Major's dog- 
 cart mare, and Cuckoo on the black- 
 smith's pony. The grey was a rare 
 fencer in a big country, and sailed over 
 everything that came in his way, with 
 equal satisfaction to himself (for he had a 
 craze for fencing) and his rider ; his per- 
 formances with the foxhounds were noted 
 by "• The Man at the Cross Roads " in the 
 Irish TimeSj and the Major took extra- 
 ordinary credit to himself, as he attended 
 the meets on wheels, and flourished his 
 red silk pocket-handkerchief, and pointed 
 out his purchase to his friends, saying in 
 his loud hoarse voice : 
 
 " You see old Tom Malone has an 
 eye for a horse yet." (All the same, 
 Tom Malone had never been credited
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 207 
 
 with this particular class of eye, at any 
 period !) 
 
 " Look at that grey my stepson is 
 ridmg. / bought him, and dirt cheap 
 too. He can make a holy show of every 
 horse in the country ; he is a chaser, 
 that's what he is, and would fetch three 
 hundred any day. Eh ? "What ? What ? " 
 
 George, with his hunter and his gun, 
 was now frequently absent from Ballin- 
 goole, staying in various hospitable comi- 
 try houses with recent acquaintances, with 
 relations of brother officers, or with hunt- 
 ing men. His mother was gratified ; she 
 " liked to see her bairn respected like 
 the lave." The Major was gratified from 
 other reasons, and the only person who 
 was dissatisfied was Belle. Was her prize 
 to be snatched away from her, by the
 
 208. INTERFERENCE. 
 
 hungry, sclieming motliers of anxious 
 marriageable daughters ? 
 
 Or would absence make his heart 
 grow fonder of her — or of somebody 
 else ? 
 
 Early in February, the meet of the 
 Eunmore foxhounds happened to be a 
 central one, and within two miles of 
 Ballingoole ; this was always one of the 
 great events of the season, when all the 
 population, gentle and simple, turned out 
 en masse. The labourers had a holiday, 
 the townspeople closed their shops, and 
 every jaunting car and ass's cart in the 
 parish, took the road to Drubberstown 
 Cross. Even Belle, who hated fox-hunt- 
 ing, secured a seat in the Mahons' 
 wagonette. The Major was mounted m 
 his dog -cart, George on the grey, and 
 Denis on an elderly, but excellent black 
 mare belongmg to the priest. Cuckoo
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 209 
 
 and Betty (who knew every yard of tlie 
 country and always evinced a most active 
 interest in the Harriers) set out at an 
 early hour in Mrs. Malone's donkey car ; 
 indeed Betty had had a narrow escape of 
 figuring at the meet, with the bath-chair 
 at her heels, but Belle had not allowed 
 her mother to develop the idea. As long 
 as George Holroyd was in the country, the 
 old lady must forego such carriage exer- 
 cise. Astute Belle had gathered that he 
 disapproved of her turn-out, so Betty and 
 Cuckoo had driven off in a little village 
 cart, behind " Mookieanna," a well-fed 
 sporting donkey — all three being m the 
 highest spirits. The young ladies had laid 
 then' plans with much discrimmation, and 
 resolved to relinquish the glories of the 
 meet, and to go mstead, and take up a 
 strong position, from whence they would 
 be able to see the subsequent run — if run 
 
 VOL. I. 14
 
 210 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 there was. They drove straight to the 
 Hill of Knock, on the side of which lies 
 a neat gorse patch, a sure warrant for a 
 game fox. Tying Mookieanna to the 
 gate, they walked up through three large 
 bare fields to the cover side, and then 
 discovered, to their intense disgust, crowds 
 of country people assembled close to it, 
 smoking and joking, round several large 
 fires, awaiting the arrival of the hounds. 
 
 " It would be hard for them to find a 
 fox here to-day," exclaimed Betty, breath- 
 less and angry. 
 
 " Faix, and so it would, miss," calmly 
 assented Mike, Mrs. Eedmond's handy 
 man and gardener. " Sure, didn't I see 
 a brace of them break out of it this 
 morning, with my own two eyes, but I'm 
 thinkmg, maybe himself is in it yet." 
 
 " There is no use in staying here," said 
 Cuckoo scornfully. " They won't find
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 211 
 
 here, and will go on and draw Coolambar 
 Hill. We have plenty of time to run 
 across to it ; it's barely a mile-and-a-half by 
 the short cut. ]\Iike, do you take home 
 the donkey, he is tied below at the gate." 
 
 And the two girls girded up their 
 dresses, and fled down the hill, an ex- 
 ceedmgly active couple. " They ran like 
 hares," to quote admirers round the cover 
 fires — they climbed, they jumped, they 
 struo^o^led throuo'h hedo^es, with the ease 
 that came from youth, and health and 
 practice. As they were about to breast 
 Coolambar Hill, Betty paused suddenly 
 with a dramatic gesture, and said : 
 
 " Hush ! Cuckoo. I hear them ; they 
 have found ! " and sure enough, their 
 hstening ears caught the distant whimper 
 of hounds, now giving louder and louder 
 tongue. 
 
 Betty's cheeks were scarlet with excite- 
 
 14—2
 
 212 INTEKFERENCE. 
 
 ment, and even the pale Cuckoo was 
 moved. 
 
 " Here, Cuckoo, climb upon this wall," 
 said her friend, dragging her forward as 
 she spoke, and nearly pullmg her arms 
 out of their sockets ; "we shall have a 
 splendid view." 
 
 And on the top of the wall, they stood 
 hand m hand, panting from their recent 
 run, with their eyes eagerly bent on 
 Knock cover. Yes, here come the hounds 
 streaming down, half-a-dozen little white 
 specks, then the whole pack, then half-a- 
 dozen horsemen, then the whole field. 
 
 " Mike was right, you see he was at 
 home after all," said Betty, " but oh ! he 
 has been headed oiF by those sheep ; he 
 w^on't come here, he will go for Bresna 
 Wood, six miles away, if it's an inch." 
 
 The hounds passed m full cry, within 
 two fields of the girls, closely followed by
 
 EETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 213 
 
 the huntsman, a steeplechase rider, and a 
 spare-looking whip, on a bony chestnut 
 thoroughbred. 
 
 " Here is George," cried Cuckoo, 
 triumphantly ; "he is coming into this 
 iield. Does not ' Clancy ' jump beauti- 
 fully ? " as the eager grey negotiated a 
 razor bank, between two deep though 
 narrow ditches. 
 
 " And just look at this man — riding 
 jealous " — as another horseman came at 
 the same fence at racing pace. 
 
 " AVhy it's Ghosty :\Ioore ! " 
 
 The words had scarcely left her lips, 
 when a catastrophe cut short Ghosty's 
 career. His horse, already blown and 
 over-ridden (but willmg) took off too far, 
 failed to kick the bank, and fell back into 
 the near gripe, with a loud exclamation 
 from his rider. He and his horse were 
 both completely lost to sight ; they had
 
 214 INTERFEKENCE. 
 
 disappeared as suddenly as if the earth 
 had swallowed them. A shrill yell from 
 Cuckoo, piercing as a steam whistle, 
 caused her brother to turn his head, and 
 he beheld her running down the field, 
 wavmg her arms like a windmill gone 
 mad. 
 
 Of course he must stop ; he pulled in 
 the grey with considerable difficulty, for 
 Clancy was bent on pursuing ! He 
 would be furious if some nonsense of 
 Cuckoo's cost him what looked like the 
 run of the season ; he turned his horse, 
 and galloped up to her. 
 
 " What the deuce is the matter ? " he 
 demanded impatiently. 
 
 ^' A man," she gasped, " a man has 
 been killed," pointmg to the ditch, from 
 which there was neither sound nor sign. 
 
 George was on the spot in another five 
 seconds, and saw four shining, kicking
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 21o 
 
 lioofs, turned upwards, and lieard a sick- 
 ening groan, as of one in mortal agony. 
 
 Here was a nice fix I Some fellow 
 under his horse, that horse jammed fast 
 in a narrow gripe ten feet deep, and 
 no one to help him, but a couple of 
 girls ! 
 
 The hunt had passed to the left — swept 
 on with the inexorable determination 
 of foxhounds running a burning scent ; 
 already there was not a soul to be seen, 
 for only the hard riders had come this , 
 w\ay — the less keen had taken to a con- 
 venient lane. George was off the grey, 
 and down in the ditch, as quick as 
 thought. If he could only get the horse 
 lengthways, he might manage to drag 
 his rider from mider him, but this was 
 impossible, smgle -handed. It looked a 
 serious business, and there was no time 
 to be lost.
 
 216 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 " Come down, Cuckoo, like a good girl," 
 he said coaxingiy, " come down, and give 
 me a hand. There is no fear of you. 
 I'll take care of that." 
 
 Cuckoo peered down with a ghastly 
 face, and saw the struggling iron shoes, 
 the blood upon her brother's gloves, and 
 heard half- stifled moans of anguish. 
 
 " I daren't, George. Oh, I daren't ! " 
 and she began to cry. 
 
 " I dare, I am not afraid," said Betty, 
 scrambling hastily into the ditch beside 
 him ; " only tell me what I am to do." 
 
 " I'll manage the horse, if you can 
 move the man," returned George. " Just 
 put your hands under his arms, very 
 firmly, and hold fast, and when I give 
 you the word, pull with all your strength 
 — nowy 
 
 The experiment proved successful. Mr. 
 Moore was luckily a very light weight.
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. l>17 
 
 and George Holroyd was a strong man, 
 otherwise lie would have remamed much 
 longer at the bottom of the ditch ; but as 
 it was, after several attempts, these two 
 good Samaritans got him out between 
 them, and laid him on the grass — a truly 
 ghastly object ; his head, which had come 
 in contact with a stone, was bleeding 
 profusely ; his white face was streaked 
 with blood, and he seemed to be insen- 
 sible. 
 
 George took off his coat, and folded it 
 up into a sort of pillow for the sufferer, 
 then he produced his flask, and endeav- 
 oured to pour some of its contents between 
 his closed teeth. 
 
 " He is dead ! Ghosty Moore is dead," 
 shrieked Cuckoo, and she ran up the 
 field f^ivino' vent to a series of aofonisinof 
 screams ; she had no nerves whatever, and 
 the sio'ht of blood made her sick and
 
 218 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 terrified. Yes, even the bold and saucy 
 Cuckoo ! she was as useless as the grey, 
 who, with streaming reins, grazed greedily 
 along the hedge row, sublimely indifferent 
 to the fate of his companion, who was 
 struggling in the adjacent ditch. Pre- 
 sently George went down and righted 
 him, and got him out, a limping terrified 
 spectacle, and then he said to Betty, who 
 had been trying to bind up the wounded 
 man's head with their handkerchiefs : 
 " Some one must go for help at once, 
 either you or I I ", 
 
 " There are no cottages near this, and 
 Ballingoole is four miles off. You had 
 better go ; you will go faster," she returned 
 promptly. 
 
 " But I don't know the way," he 
 replied. 
 
 " There is a lane at this gate, and if 
 the gate is locked, try a corner, there's
 
 BETTY MATrii!S TWO CONQUESTS. 219 
 
 sura to be a gap, and then turn to tlie 
 left, and keep straight out." 
 
 '' You are certam you don't mmd bemg 
 left here by yourself ? " said George, pour- 
 ing some more sherry down the throat 
 of their unconscious patient ; '' you seem 
 to have made a good job with the ban- 
 dages, but I am afraid his arm is broken, 
 and he seems in a bad way — a very bad 
 way." 
 
 They looked at one another gravely. 
 
 Supposing he were to die, with no one 
 by him but Betty ? — f jr Cuckoo had 
 actually left the field, and Avas nowhere to 
 be seen. 
 
 " You must take your coat," said the 
 girl, " and place his head in my lap ; it 
 will answer as well, but before you go, 
 bring me some water in your hat." 
 
 " Here it is," he said, speedily returning 
 Yfith his dripping property. " And I'll ^x
 
 220 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 Ms saddle for you to sit on, instead of 
 this wet field." 
 
 " No, please don't," she vainly remon- 
 strated, "there is no time to lose, you 
 must not think of mey 
 
 N'evertheless George thought a good deal 
 about Betty, as he galloped into Ballin- 
 goole, in search of Dr. Moran. What a 
 brave girl she was, remaining there alone, 
 with, for all they knew, a dying man. She 
 was just the sort of girl to stand beside 
 one at a pinch ; now he came to think of 
 it, her face was of the heroic type. As to 
 Cuckoo ! he scarcely dared to let his mind 
 dwell on his shameless hysterical young 
 relative, whom he presently overtook pro- 
 ceeding homewards at a kind of shambling 
 run. 
 
 " Cuckoo ! " he called out sternly, " I 
 am ashamed of you." 
 
 " I am going for help," sobbed Cuckoo,
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 221 
 
 who was what is known among the lower 
 orders as " roaring and crying." " Is — is 
 — he dead yet ? " 
 
 "Go to the first cabin you come across, 
 and borrow a door and a blanket," shouted 
 her brother, and then pushed on, and was 
 so expeditious, that within an hour the 
 wounded man had baen removed from the 
 scene of his accident, and conveyed home 
 carefully in the charge of Dr. Moran. 
 Augustus Moore, nick-named " Ghosty," 
 on account of his white face, lint locks, and 
 spare figure, was the eldest son of Colonel 
 ^loore of Roskeen, a county magnate, who 
 possessed not only lands, but money. He 
 had been accustomed to see Betty Redmond 
 ever since she was a small child, and he 
 liked her, but somethino- strono-er than mere 
 liking awoke in his bosom, when he came 
 to his senses, and found himself lying 
 with his head in Betty's lap at the foot
 
 222 INTERFERENCE. 
 
 of Coolambar Hill. He was so stunned, 
 and bruised, and weak, that lie firmly 
 believed that lie bad entered on bis last 
 hour ; but Betty's presence cbeered bim. 
 She batlied bis face, moistened bis dry 
 lips, restored bis confidence, and gaA^e bim 
 beart in one sense, whilst she took it 
 away in another. 
 
 As be lay there, helpless, between sod 
 and sky, with her sympathetic voice in his 
 ears, her sweet anxious face bent over his, 
 he made up his mind, that if he lived, he 
 would like to marry Betty Piedmond. 
 This was a curious coincidence, for George 
 Holroyd, as he walked home beside her, 
 that grey wintry afternoon, four long 
 miles through muddy roads and lanes, 
 with " Clancy's " bridle over bis arm, had 
 almost come to the same conclusion. At 
 any rate, he told himself that she was the 
 prettiest, pluckiest, and nicest girl it had
 
 BETTY MAKES TWO CONQUESTS. 223 
 
 ever been liis luck to know. However 
 an immediate visit to the other side of 
 the comity, drew him away from Betty's 
 unexpected fascinations — and they did not 
 meet agam fur many weeks. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
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