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Do you think I am going to argue it with you, going to belittle my own position by admitting, for one second, that it is open to question?" She flashed him one blazing look, then resumed her walking and her angry rush of words. "Why, if some four-year-old child came in here and began to contend for Derry's place," Rachael asked passionately, "how long would we seriously consider his right?
Stirring words. The lovers had thrilled to them. Derry's hand had gone out to Jean and her own hand clasped it. Together they saw the vision of his going forth, a shining knight, girded for the battle by a beloved woman saw it through the glamour of high hopes and youthful ardor! A troop of cavalry on the Avenue! Jackies in saucer caps, infantry, artillery, aviation!
The Glenelly water mingles with the Struell and is joined by the Derg, which forms the Mourne. After the Mourne receives the Finn at Lifford it assumes the name of the Foyle and flows into history past Derry's walls.
In the time that was left to them they were to find a house of dreams, and as Jean said, expansively, "all the rest." "We will start tonight," Derry declared. "There's such a moon." It was the kind of moon that whitened the world; one swam in a sea of light. Derry's runabout was a fairy car.
McKenzie was ushered into Derry's sitting room, he found a rather pale and languid young man in the long chair. "I hated to wake you, Drake. But it was rather necessary that I should talk your father's case over with you." "Is he very ill?" "It isn't that there are complications that I don't care to discuss with servants." "You mean he has been drinking?" "Yes. Heavily.
Connolly all about it. About Derry, and how he had fallen in love with her when he had thought she was just the girl in the Toy Shop. But there were things which she did not tell, of the shabby old gentleman and of the shadow which had darkened Derry's life. Then when she had finished, Mary Connolly asked the thing which everybody asked "Why isn't he fighting?" Jean flushed.
It was all most entrancing, the gilded wagons, the restless beasts behind their bars, the spotted ponies, the swaying elephants, the bands playing, the crowds streaming . Teddy held tight to Jean's hand. Margaret-Mary was carried high on Derry's shoulder. All of her curls were bobbing, and her eyes were shining. Now and then she dropped a light kiss on the silver blond hair of her cavalier.
Quite miraculously Emily arrived, and she and Bronson made a boudoir of Derry's sitting-room. They filled it with flowers, as was fitting for a bridal-bower. Jean's little trunk had been sent on to Woodstock, but there was her bag, and a supply of things which Emily brought from home. A new night nurse came, and Miss Martin was retained for the day.
Derry's heart seemed to stop beating. "Crying?" Even as he spoke, Margaret stood on the threshold. There were no tears, but it was worse than tears. He started towards her, but with a gesture she stopped him. "I am so glad you are here," she said. "My dear what is it?" She put her hand up to her head. "Teddy, dearest," she asked, "can you take care of Margaret-Mary until Cousin Derry comes back?
She kept Derry's tin soldier, which Drusilla had given him, on her desk. "You shall have him when you go to France, but until then he is a good little comrade, and I say; 'Good-morning' to him and 'Good-night. Yet I sometimes wonder whether he likes it there on the shelf, and whether he is crying, 'I want to go to the wars "
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